


Pan and the Avengers

by MissInsignificance



Series: Pan and the Avengers [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU - alternate universe, Attempt at Extinction, Bruce is deeply disturbed by Pan's murderous nature, But at times some fluff as well, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Hurt, Lots of Angst, Multi, Murder, Pain, Pan is not good with feelings, Pan tries- a lot, Past Memories, Peter Pan does not give any fucks, Peter Pan is not Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold's Father, Struggle, Tony is just so done with everything, Ultron is a sassy robot, Villain learns to be good, Violence, and lots of swearing, nobody asked for this crap at all, not a single one, oh well, oh yeah, per usual, seriously, the Avengers make him open up, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-10-13 13:43:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17489126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissInsignificance/pseuds/MissInsignificance
Summary: A plan to use a spell to trap Peter Pan in Pandora's goes awry when the spell ends up sending Peter to a whole other universe. Here, Pan is dropped (quite literally) into the middle of an ascending war between a weird, special group of people who call themselves the Avengers, and some psychotic machine that wants to wipe out the entire human race itself.Seeing that the mass destruction of all living humans is a bit of a problem, Peter gets acquainted with the Avengers. But the difference in their morals and fighting strategies cause some rifts, and the Avengers find it hard to trust someone who openly claims himself "a villain." And whilst Pan's heart is somewhat in the right place, his 'sincerity' is constantly overlooked by his shifty, condescending persona. And Peter can't understand why killing isn't the answer with these people when it is clearly the easiest way to go—at least in his eyes.Working together proves to be difficult: can Pan and the Avengers set aside their vast differences in order to save the world? Can a villain truly become a hero?Aka: the Avengers/Once Upon a Time Crossover that Literally Nobody Fucking Asked For.





	1. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and the crew actually manage to defeat and capture Pan, but learn that he is immortal due to Henry's heart. Because of a magical seal Pan put on Pandora's box, Rumple tells the gang of a spell he created back in Storybrooke to put Pan into the box without having to open it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned; this story is utter shit and the concept was completely crafted from my weird ass imagination since I love the Avengers and Pan is my favourite villain. You hath been warned.
> 
> Enjoy

Pan glared at all of them. He swore that he'd hurt every last one of them for humiliating him like this. Being tied to a tree was one thing; but being tied to a tree on his own island? That was a new low.

Regina smirked tauntingly at him, very much enjoying his current inferior state. Emma was watching him like a hawk, probably on alert in case he tried anything, the pirate was drinking rum, per usual, Henry was talking to his father and he really couldn't give a damn what Snow and Charming were doing. Probably sucking faces somewhere, was Peter's best guess. He found himself scoffing quietly in disgust just thinking about it.

Rumple was there too, but Peter couldn't look at him—not without feeling the intense need to throttle him, at least. That would only result in him struggling incredibly in his bonds, which in favour, would end up with the stupid queen having to knock him out again; yes, again. There had been a bit of an incident earlier on. The rope that had Pan trapped to the tree was enchanted—not even his powers could break them. There was no point in struggling. Pan had come to terms with that though. He had been perfectly content sneering and snapping at the perpetrators who had tied him to the tree instead—that was, until Rumple showed up at least....

The sight of the man infuriated him to no limit. After all, he was the main reason he was in this predicament to begin with. Peter found himself yelling and swearing at Rumple, viciously thrashing about in his bonds to the point where he damn near freed himself from them. However, Regina managed to knock him out before he could. So yeah. Looking at Rumple wasn't an option.

It was okay though; he could find other things to focus his anger on—like the queen for example.

Peter glowered at the everlasting smirk on Regina's face, desperately wishing he could slap it off. The bitch dared to be smug around him? Doesn't she know how easily she could kill her if not for these bonds? Seriously; if he were free he would be able to snap her neck in seconds, regardless if he had magic or not. He could do it with everyone, actually. But alas no; he was stuck to sitting on the ground, trapped beneath these chains against a tree of his own island. Pan sighed. Yes, it was very frustrating to be in his current position right now. But he kept one thing in mind to keep him from going insane with anger, one thing that he had to suppress a smile about every time he thought about it:

Oh, the pleasure of knowing something one does not—especially when that one is your enemy and when that thing is the defining factor of your fate.

The saviour and her crew did have their bright moments; he'd give them that. But other than that, they were pretty stupid. Stupid enough to believe that he was weak enough to kill without Henry's heart, that is. Now Peter knew that he was weakened without Henry's heart, yes—after all, inheriting a mass amount of power only to have it stripped away in moments, who wouldn't be? But what the group did not know was that before the queen ripped it out of him, Henry's heart had already pumped immortality into his veins.

He can't die.

So in regards to this, Pan hoped for their sake that they weren't plotting to kill him for the simple reason that he knew it wouldn't work; It'd just prove to be a waste of time—though admittedly there was a part of him that did desire to see them try because he always found it amusing when people tried to kill him only to see that it didn't work. Their reactions are usually quite amusing.

Speaking of amusement, or the lack of, that is, Pan was quickly getting bored. He had been stuck to this tree for over 30 minutes now and he was growing tired of his game of spitting comments left and right. If he didn't find another way to entertain himself soon, he might actually die of pure boredom itself. "Sorry to interrupt your—rather pertinent activities," he sneered, knowing that what everyone was doing was less than necessary, "but whatever you plan on doing with me, can you get it over and done with already?" A small smirk grew upon his lips. "Unless you plan on torturing me with your mere presences."

Regina arched an eyebrow and looked at Rumple. "I say we kill him right now," she said and Pan had to suppress a smile. "We've got him tied up, he's powerless," he had to suppress a laugh this time, "why not get it over with already?" Rumple looked at him with a suspicious eye. He walked over to Pan, who avoided looking at him as much as possible until he heard the drawing of a knife—one of his knives. Pan looked up, fury filling his veins at the sight of Rumple again, but he fought it down with confusion when the man crouched down near him, knife in hand. A pompous look played across his face as he smiled up at the elder. "Going for 'death by a thousand cuts' are you, laddie? So "dark one" of y–" he cut himself off with a hiss of pain when Rumple started to sink the knife down into his shoulder, but stopped abruptly at his emission of pain. Just because he was immortal, doesn't mean he couldn't feel the pain of when someone tried to kill him. But it bothered him a lot more knowing that his attacker was Rumple.

Refusing to look weak, Pan looked up at the man with his chin held high, a daring look shining in his eyes. But all he saw in Rumple's were guilt, sadness and regret. That made him even more angry. But before he could act on his thoughts, Rumple backed away and stood up, shaking his head. Regina frowned at him. "Why'd you stop?" She asked. He just shook his head again. "I can't do it," he murmured, irritating Pan even more for victimizing himself. He knew why Rumple couldn't do it. He knew why he felt so guilty just trying to. He also knew that his reason for this guilt was valid. It didn't make him any less angry though. And no, he was not angry for Rumple's attempt on killing him; he was angry for the reason on why he couldn't.

Regina scrunched up her nose in confusion. "You of all people couldn't-" she started but Rumple cut her off with a sharp raise of his hand. "I just can't!" He snapped, gaining the attention of everyone around. He sighed out an annoyed breath before looking at Regina and handing her the dagger. "Go stab him," he said and Regina grinned with that ever present evil look in her eye. "With pleasure," she sneered gleefully, making her way over to Pan with malicious intent in her steps. Snow, who Pan noticed had came back from her little espionage with Charming, immediately ran up towards Regina to stop her, but Rumple put out an arm to hold her back. She gave him an incredulous look. "Rumple!" She gasped, looking at him with shock but he just shook his head. "Trust me," he whispered to her, "nothing will happen." Pan heard this though and widened his eyes slightly; he knew. How did he know?

Regina however, took this as fright and it only made her cruel grin grow even wider. "This," she said, crouching near him. Pan scowled at her. "This is for trying to kill my son." Pan was about to snap back that he was actually trying to save an island before gasping as Regina shoved the knife into his middle of his chest, eliciting a bunch of gasps and words of protest some of the people behind her. Pan looked at the dagger as the pain soon faded away and sighed. There was no point in playing pretend as a final attempt to fool the heroes. Rumple already knew. It just irritated Pan how he didn't know how he knew. Had he seen him smile when the Queen threatened his life? He thought he had suppressed that smile well!

Upon hearing his sigh, Regina, who had already gotten up, looked behind her at him with confusion; probably because his sigh sounded more annoyed like rather than "I'm taking my last breath" like. "The hell...?" She said, furrowing her eyebrows perplexedly. Rumple sighed and walked over to Pan. "I knew it," he said, yanking the knife out of him and Pan had to bite his tongue in order not to swear, though he did it so harshly that he drew blood. He glared deeply at Rumple as he began to talk again. "He's immortal," the man said and everyone looked shocked. "How is that possible, we took Henry's heart out of him," Emma said, standing up from where she was sitting on a fallen log. Rumple sighed again and rubbed his face tiredly. "I'm guessing that Henry's heart had already pumped immortality through his blood vessels; it hadn't been in there long enough the give him ultimate power but still enough to keep his current ones sustained," he said and Peter scowled because that was exactly what had happened. He wished he could use his powers at the moment; he would've drilled a hole right beneath Rumple's feet and let him rot in there.

Out of everyone, Regina, much to his delight, was the most upset out of everyone. "Well great, now what are we supposed to do with him?" She asked, looking at him with an annoyed look, which he met with his best smile. It only succeeded in irritating her more, which made him even more happy. He liked to get joy out of the little things; other people's anger was one of them.

However Rumple, of course, had to put a damper on things again. "I have a plan," he said and Pan rolled his eyes. Oh, this oughta be good. "I've made a spell to trap him in Pandora's box. And since he's created a seal on it that only he can break-" "he'll never be able to get out," Emma concluded, a smile growing on her face as she started to understand where Rumple was going with this. Pan, however, paled significantly. Fuck. That was a good plan. Regina was especially happy about this. "Well what're we waiting for? Do it now!" She demanded. Rumple rolled his eyes at her impatience. "Easy there queen," he said, "the words for the spell are back at my shop. We have to get there first."

At that, Hook piped up, an irking smile on his face. "I think I can help with that," he said, looking at Pan smugly. He just growled back because for once in his life, Peter Pan had absolutely no idea what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well thats about it for the first chapter. Like and review if you actually read this pile of shit. Or don't. Doesn't matter much to me.
> 
> Until next time, people of Ao3


	2. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Oncers reach Storybrooke and immediately put their plan into action. As usual, something goes wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey people, I'm back. So I see few people have actually read this and what's even more crazy, liked it as well…. huh. I mean thank you very much I'm hella grateful n'all, it's just- huh…. Never woulda thought…. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy this new chapter!

The sail back was just as humiliating. Pan was tied to the said dock and while every one chatted and conversed, going about merrily (making themselves appear extra happy just to annoy him, Pan could tell) all he could do was sit there and watch. Of course he glared at anyone who would make eye contact, but, infuriatingly enough, all they would do is laugh. The only exception was Henry; as the others are in front of him, probably to tantalize him, Henry would always try and sneak towards him to offer him food and no matter how many times Pan refused him, he would keep coming back. Pan swore that kid must have been made from the teardrop of a happy angel or something because there was no way someone so pure of heart (literally) could be born from people as cynical and boring as Emma and Bae. 

Nevertheless, Pan would always angrily tell him off which would end up catching the attention of one of the mothers, would would quickly pull Henry away from him and glare at him (or in the queen's case, glare AND kick him), warning him to back off which was incredibly stupid because he was clearly incapacitated in this state. Pan thought it didn't have to take a genius to figure this common knowledge out. Once again, whenever Pan tried to find even the tiniest thread of intelligence in one of them, the saviour and her stupid group of vigils always managed to prove themselves intellectually helpless. It was pitiful really; but not as pitiful as his current situation, although he hated to admit it. To keep the anger in, Pan closed his eyes for most of the trip and let his imagination run wild. Although his pride and prosperity were damaged, the depths of his mind would never be stopped.

The only other joy Pan got out of the trip was seeing the pirate brooding and sulking to himself whenever Bae was near Emma. It was truly hilarious, the whole ordeal, because the dark looks that fell upon Hook's features were a result of how Emma reacted whenever bae was around her. Though Pan was the last person who would be considered a love expert, even he could not miss the way Emma's face softened whenever she saw Bae, and the reminiscent smiles and grins that would always spread across her face when the two of them talked. He was definitely no love expert, but he was always very observant. It was not hard to tell that these two were each other's true loves.

Despite all this, the dumb pirate still believed he had a chance with the saviour. It was almost as amusing as it was pitiful. Pan had already told him that the kids meant nothing, but of course he didn’t listen to him. Hook should really put a tab down on how many times he didn’t listen to him and observe the outcomes. In never works in his favour.

A light laugh was heard in the air and for once in his life, Pan was delighted to see that it came from Emma in regards to something Bae had told her. His eyes quickly scanned the vicinity for the pirate and he wasn’t disappointed. He spotted him in the corner of his ship, eyeing the whole ordeal with distaste, before his eyes landed on Pan himself. Pan smirked slightly and the pirate glowered at him dangerously before walking away. To this, Pan leaned his head back with a triumphant grin. He had successfully done his mission of pissing Hook off and now he felt like a champion: well, as much as a champion one could feel while being tied to the mast of a ship, at least. Pan felt his eyes narrow at the thought.

Aaaand he was back to being miserable again. Hooray.

After what felt like hours (and could have very well been hours; Pan had lost track. He was too bored to care anymore), the ship had finally docked in what was apparently Storybrooke. Pan looked over the small town and frowned. He wasn’t very impressed. This is where rumple had been for the past 24 years? No wonder he had gotten so weak. 

With his wrists still bound up, Regina used magic to haul him up rather roughly and drag him off the boat, and taking quite a lot of joy out of doing so as well. Pan sneered at her but remained silent as the rest of the gang were greeted by other inhabitants of Storybrooke, Belle included, who hugged Rumple so tightly and lovingly the sight of it sickened him. He didn’t even try to hide his sheer disgust at the loving reunion before him. Rumple saw this and gave him a warning look, but Pan merely sighed and rolled his eyes at him. He was already being sent into a box; what more could these people really do to him? 

Speaking of which, Regina really seemed to want to get the show on the road. “Can we hurry this up Gold? With every moment we waste, this little shit is still not inside that box,” she said. Rumple sighed at her impatience, but relented and started leading the way to his shop and Regina smiled and all but yanked Pan forwards, resulting in him stumbling to his knees, having been not paying attention to what was going on around him in the slightest. “C’mon, get up you little sadist,” she said and tugged him forwards again. Pan glared at her but said nothing as he got to his feet. The level of how much he cared about anything anymore was so incredibly little, it was almost concerning. He didn’t care about living forever anymore. He didn’t care about Henry’s heart either. All he wanted to do was go back to Neverland and never have to deal with these people again.

Soon enough he’d get part of his wish come true: only spending eternity in a box rather than in his beautiful island.

He was once again (quite literally) pulled out of his thoughts and looked up to see that they had already made it to inside Rumple’s shop. Pan could practically feel the ecstasy emitting off of everyone in the room at the thought of him finally and no longer being a threat to them and he rolled his eyes, seconding to instead focus on the small artifacts that Rumple had in his shop. Nothing too spectacular caught his eye, and to be honest, it looked like a regular antique store; that is, until a small silver object caught his eye. Pan squinted, trying to see what the object was, and when he finally did, he wished he hadn’t. A pan pipe charmed necklace was hanging daintily off of one of the lamps—and it was not in the buying section either. 

Pan looked at the thing, a growing feeling of contempt and anger burning inside of him, as he desperately fought back the memories that came with the charm. He couldn’t believe it; after all these years, Rumple still had that thing? Then again, he himself did keep the doll; but that’s because he could never bring himself to destroy the thing. Perhaps the same was said for Rumple? Pan shook his head vigorously. No, he didn’t want to think about it. That would just bring up more memories and cause his barely contained magic to start riling up again; and he didn’t feel like having to be knocked out again.

Tearing his eyes away from the charm, he found that the gang had stopped in a room, one closed off from the rest of the store. And in it contained almost everything Pan knew that Rumple owned. He couldn’t help but shake his head a bit. Typical. Leave it to Rumple to leave everything he possesses most dear all in one big room. Anyone with a brain would know that you scatter your prized possessions, close, but not too close, so that anyone who tried to steal them would find difficulty in doing so. Clearly, Rumple’s brain was defective.

Speaking of the man, he was browsing through different bottles and papers of spells and such, trying to find the right one that would bring Pan to his doom. Behind him, Regina was getting impatient. “Haven’t you found it yet?” She asked and Rumple completely stopped what he was doing to glare at her. “I suppose the process of finding it would go by faster without you nagging me everything 10 seconds,” he snapped at her. Regina scowled back at him, but kept her mouth shut, thank the gods. Rumple wasn’t the only one bothered by the queen’s constant chatter.

Eventually Rumple found the spell along with the words to go with it and grabbed it from the shelf. “Finally,” Regina huffed under her breath and pushed Pan forward towards Rumple, who placed both the spell and the words down before extending his hand towards Emma, who placed the box in his hand. At the sight of it, Pan felt his stomach churn. It had been a while since he’d felt uneasiness and he was not used to it. He wasn’t afraid—no, Peter Pan no longer held the capacity to fear anything but himself—but he wasn’t going to lie, he was a bit nervous. He was about to behold a punishment worse than death; to be held prisoner in a small box for the rest of time with no hope of escape.

You could understand why one would feel uneasy about that.

Spreading out the scroll that held the words for him to chant, Rumple instructed everyone to move back before his eyes landed on Pan himself. A flicker of sorrow and regret shined through them, only succeeding in irritating him more, and Pan held his glance with a hardened stare. He absolutely refused to show any signs of vulnerability around Rumple; not again.

“What are you waiting for,” he sneered out, looking at the elder man with contempt, and Rumple sighed almost wistfully before taking the bottle in his hands and beginning to chant the words. Pan could feel his anxiety grow with each passing word but he kept staring right at Rumple, his head held up high in defiance. At the last words, Rumple looked up into his eyes and for a second, just a second, Pan felt his resolve crack: he was afraid. It was enough to affect Rumple enough to once again look at him sadly, but Pan just hardened his eyes again. He didn’t need nor want his pit’s. He wanted Rumple to get it over with.

Rumple seemed to sense that. He took a deep, almost undetectable breath, before yanking the lid off of the spell.

Pan vanished into thin air.

He was expecting to see the teen being sucked into the box like a mini vortex. He hadn’t expected him to just vanish altogether. 

“Well?” Regina piped up, “is he gone?” Rumple looked at her. “Oh he’s gone,” he said and the gang relaxed, “but he’s not in the box.” 

Everyone looked at him, eyes widened in shock. “What? But he’s gone,” David said, but Rumple just shook his head. “The spell was supposed to suck him into the box, not make him blink out of sight,” he explained.

There was a brief exchange of nervous glances before Emma spoke up. “Well, if he’s not in the box, then where is he?” 

Rumple sighed. “That’s the thing,” he said. “I have no clue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this one's pretty short and its fucking crap because I hate writing the parts that lead up to the big stuff. It gets me antsy. 
> 
> Anyways, that's all for now. The next chapter should be up soon. Bye!


	3. New World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pan falls—quite literally—into the middle of a battle scene between weirdly dressed people in a country he has never heard of before. Questions ensue.  
> Meanwhile, Rumple and the rest of the gang discuss on how they’re going to get Pan back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K so I accidentally deleted this thing idk why I’m just hella stupid I guess.

Pan had opted to stare down at Rumple even as he was sucked into the box. He hadn’t imagined everything going black so quickly.

 

Which was plausible, because that wasn’t supposed to happen.

 

Pan knew a thing or two about spells; even ones that weren’t his own. He was able to understand just how they worked, which is why he could tell that this specific one hadn’t worked properly.

 

Well that and the fact that he was now falling through the sky.

 

Cursing everything, but mostly Rumple, Pan was relieved to see that wherever he was, he still had magic. Maybe Rumple had zapped him into the enchanted forest by mistake. Smirking at the thought of Rumple's failure of a spell, he pushed his hands out to halt his free fall.

 

It didn’t work.

 

Pan frowned, and looked at his hands before trying again. And again. And again. And a couple more times after that too. He looked at his hands with frustration. He could feel the magic inside of him. Why wasn’t it working?!

 

He was also very aware that he was getting dangerously closer to the ground. “Cmon, cmon!!!” Pan growled, doing everything in his not so cooperative power to activate his flying. Nothing happened. He groaned in frustration before looking down to see how close he was to the ground now.

 

However he didn’t see the ground. He saw trees.

 

Snowy trees, which was kind of odd, but still trees all the same.

 

Pan sighed wistfully. This was gonna hurt.

 

He crashed through the hard branches of the trees for what felt like ages before finally landing on the ground in an awkward position.

 

Yep, he was right.

 

“Ow....” he moaned in pain, as he slowly sat himself up, shaking off the snow from his body. In what he was wearing he probably should’ve felt cold but Pan was able to manipulate the temperatures in his body, which was the only part of his powers that seemed to be working right now. Well that, and his immortality, thank the gods. Without it, he lost definitely would’ve perished.

 

“Uh, guys, call me crazy but I just saw a kid literally fall out of the sky from nowhere and somehow he’s not dead, what’s this supposed to mean?”

 

Pan looked up in confusion. Who is talking?

 

“What are you talking about?”

 

“Barton, we do not have times for your stupid damn jokes right now—oh shoot, sorry cap”

 

“Let it go, Tony!”

 

Okay, slightly less loud voices, but still voices nonetheless. Man, how hard do Pan hit his head? Is he hearing things?

 

He tilted his head up to see a man with a bow, a notched arrow being pointed directly at him. Oh, well apparently not. But it was just this guy. Where were the other voices coming from? Who the hell was “cap” and “Barton” and “Tony”? And why could he hear so many explosions and gunshots from afar?

 

Then another, more prominent question came to mind. Where the hell was he?!?!!?!!

 

“Uh, you’re in Sokovia, pal,” a voice spoke up, Pan recognizing it as the first vice he had heard. He looked up to see that it was coming from the bow and arrow guy. Well crap, he must’ve said that out loud.

 

Arrow guy looked him up and down. “And uh, I don’t know how you got around here, nor do I know how you are not dead from that fall, but last time I checked, the Renaissance fair wasn’t here, buddy,” he said and Pan frowned at him. Renaissance fair? What the heck was this man going on about??

 

“What?” Pan inquired getting to his feet, only to sigh as he found the arrow moved with him. What was it with humans and their weaponry? Although he had to admit that a bow was a very efficient weapon, it’s efficiency is based off of that of the beholder. And judging by what he was seeing, this guy wasn’t it.

 

“You might want to put that thing down before you hurt yourself,” he told the man, who raised his eyebrows at him. “Cocky little bastard, aren’t ya?” He said and Pan rolled his eyes and ignored him, trying to figure out where the hell Sokovia was supposed to be on the map.

 

He hadn’t a clue.

 

Sensing his confusion, the archer looked at him. “Sokovia? Y’know, in Europe?” He said.

 

Pan’s eyes widened. He was in Europe?!?!!

 

“Well kid you might want to get yourself out of here before you get hurt,” the man said and suddenly let go of his not he’d arrow, which whizzed past Pan’s head. He didn’t react though, as he had already known that the man was aiming for something behind him, which seemed to be a machine that kept letting out those loud shots. The arrow blew it up the minute it hit contact. Good, Pan thought. Now he could think in peace; starting with questioning how the hell he had ended up in Europe. He could’ve sworn that Storybrooke was in the US—but magic only works in Storybrooke right? And Europe is definitely outside of the town line. Hell, it’s an entirely different continent for Christ’s sake. But then again, how were his powers still working here? Okay maybe they weren’t exactly working, but he could still feel the magic within himself and he hadn’t died with that fall. Also, he had studied the map of Europe; there was no place in Europe called Sokovia, last time he checked. So what was that all about? He felt himself get increasingly more frustrated. Nothing was making sense at all!

 

Meanwhile, Clint looked on at the young adolescent who was seemingly muttering to himself, with a questioning eye. Seriously, where did this kid come from? “Kid?” He said, only to be ignored. “Hello?” The teen looked up at him with annoyance. “What?” He snapped, head twitching in irritable in reaction to another explosion that HYDRA set off. “Seriously, how did you get here?” He asked, incapacitating another HYDRA soldier. The teen frowned at him, once again jumping at the sound of another explosion. “That’s what I’m trying to—“he winced as another explosion was set off and growled in annoyance, “figure out...” he grumbled irritatedly.

 

Clint looked at him in amusement. “What’s your name kid?” He asked as he sent another arrow fly. The boy sighed. “I’m Peter Pan. Now why the hell would he send me to Europe?!” He muttered the last part to himself but Clint was too shocked to notice. “Hold on, what?” He asked, pausing everything he was doing, and the teen stopped his mumbling to look up at him with a raised eyebrow. “What?” He asked, grunting in annoyance when another shot was fired. Clint sighed. “Kid I told you to tell me your name, be serious with me here,” he said, shooting another arrow off towards another bunker.

 

Pan gave him a look of confusion. Didn’t this man know who he was? He thought all humans knew the story of Peter Pan. “Yeah, and I did,” he said, and jumped again when the stupid machine fired out another shot. “Damn machine...” he grunted, trying to keep his patience in check. Seriously, what did he land on the middle of anyways? A war!?

 

Clint gave the teen a deadpan look. “I meant your real name, not a nickname of some fairytale,” he said. Pan looked at him with astonishment. This man really thought he wasn’t Peter Pan? “I told you I’m Peter Pan because I am Peter Pan—you’ve got to be kidding me!” Pan hollered in frustration as yet another shot was fired from the weird machine, this time right past his head. That. Was the last. Straw...

 

Ducking and rolling out of the way, Clint groaned at the kid, suddenly realizing why he as dressed so weirdly. This kid was clearly cosplaying as Peter Pan or some shit. Clint sighed. He didn’t have time for nerds and geeks right now. He just had to get this child to safety“Look, I already told you, whatever kind of nerd fair you’re going to isn’t this way, now could you step out of character for one second to tell me your actual na—“ he was cut off by the loud roar of anger that came form the teen who rounded on the bunker shooting at them. “Would this thing cut it OUT!” He hollered and thrusted his hand it’s way, leaving Clint awestruck as the bunker abruptly blew into smithereens.

 

Okay so maybe this kid is tougher than he looks.

 

Pan looked at his hand with a glare. “Oh, so now you decide to work,” he snarked, even though he knew that his powers still weren’t working in the right way. He had only meant to toss that machine back—not completely blow it up. But it wasn’t making those explosions anymore so he wasn’t really complaining. The real problem was that his magic still wasn’t working right, which he concluded could only mean that it was trying to adapt to a new, foreign environment, which didn’t make any sense at all. His powers were accustomed to Storybrooke and The Enchanted forest, neither of which he was in currently, and he definitely wasn’t in Neverland, so—

 

Wait a second.

 

Pan paled significantly. During all of this excitement he hadn’t even realized the fact that he couldn’t feel Neverland. Even while in Storybrooke or the forest, he could always feel his connection to his island. To not feel any connection whatsoever either meant one of three things: that he was dead (which he was pretty sure he wasn’t), that the island had suddenly ceased to exist (which also wasn’t an option either—Pan would’ve felt that), or that the island simply didn’t exist where he was—and the island existed anywhere and was accessible to all children. Which meant that if Neverland did not exist at all here, then;

 

Well, then he was in another universe.

 

“Holy shit,” Pan breathed out, eyes still wide and in shock. He’d been sent to a completely different universe?!?!!! He was going to kill Rumple.

 

“Holy shit is right!!” Clint said as he looked at the remains of the bunker in awe. “How the hell did you do that?” But when he looked up, the teenager wasn’t moving. Like, at all. In fact, he seemed to be so frozen in place, Clint had no idea as to whether or not he was breathing. “Uh, you okay there kid?” He asked, waving a hand in front of his face, to which the teen glared at him. Clint relaxed. Okay so he definitely wasn’t dead. But why had he froze?

 

“This shouldn’t be possible,” Pan breathed out warily. How in the hell did Rumple manage to screw up so badly on a spell to send him to another universe instead of a box?! Literally, how badly can you fuck that up? Was he even paying attention?!?

 

Clint looked at the kid for a moment before shrugging. He still had no idea who the hell this kid was, nor how he was able to do what he could do, but this scenario definitely wasn’t the weirdest he’d experience. Huh. That’s kind of sad, actually.... “A lot of things are possible here, kid,” he said, shooting at another nearby bunker. But the arrow never hit its target. Clint frowned as he witnessed some blue and white blur whip by the bunker, preventing his arrow from hitting it. What the hell?

 

Grunting, he notched another arrow and prepared to shoot, But was suddenly knocked completely off of his feet by the same blue blur that had somehow stopped his arrow.Pan didn’t even try to stifle his snort of amusement. This man was a sharpshooter, yes, but he clearly couldn’t see things that moved as fast as his arrows. He ignored how the man glared at him and swiftly shuffled out of the way when the quick boy who had knocked the archer over attempted to do the same to him. He nearly rolled his eyes at the shocked look on the white haired boy’s face. Commoners.... even when they’ve accumulated powers, they’re still so primitive...

 

Upon seeing that he was clearly not going to come to arrow guy’s aid, the white haired boy seemingly decided to deem him as non-threatening and instead paid attention to the man on the floor, smirking at him. “You didn’t see that coming?” He taunted lightly, before speeding off once more.

 

Clint quickly recovered and started to aim another arrow at the boy’s retreating figure. He heard the teen behind him scoff lightly. “That’s not gonna work,” he told him annoyingly, although Clint knew he was right. He lowered his bow reluctantly.

 

Unfortunately he didn’t quite see the blast shooting right towards him. Pan did though, but he didn’t even have a chance to make a single sound before the blast had struck the man on the side. Pan watched with indifference as he fell to the ground, moaning in pain. Oh well. Not his problem. He just had to figure out a way to get back to his own universe.

 

Oh wait; he couldn’t. Because only handmade spells can perform large amounts of magic required for such things as inter-dimensional travel, and he highly doubted this place was equipped with the essential tools and substances needed to create it.

 

Pan scowled at the thought as he debated in what he could do. Right, he could send a transmission to Rumple or something—that would require a lot of power for such a far away distance, or, in this case, a completely different dimension, but he was confident in his magical capabilities. But as soon as he tried to gather the mental and magical capacity to do so, he knew it was immediately not going to work. Not only was it too far a distance, but instead of using his mental powers like he wanted, he had blinked in and out of sight. He sighed in annoyance. Great, his powers were still screwed up. Until he got them in check, there was no point in him attempting to contact Rumple or the others. Which only left him one option; he’d have to wait till Rumple managed to contact him himself.

 

So in other words, he was going to be stuck here forever. Wonderful.

 

.

. 

 

“So you mean to tell me that you sent Pan to some random ass place that God knows where is,” Regina stayed as she paced back and forth in Rumples shop. The dark one looked at her irritably, but nodded regardless. “Great. That’s just great. So now that maniac’s on the loose and we have no clue as to where’s the first place to look!” Regina glared at him, “great job Gold. You had one job.”

 

Rumple sighed and rubbed his temples, pointedly ignoring the queen as he tried to think what exactly could have gone wrong with the spell. He couldn’t think of anything. He had all the right ingredients, had carefully put them in the order he was supposed to, and had said the words just in the right way. What did he do wrong?

 

“Maybe the spell sent him to enchanted forest?” Belle suggested as she slipped an arm through his comfortably. But Rumple sighed and shook his head. “That’s not possible. The spell was specifically designed for the box, not the forest.” “Well evidently your design has a few flaws, doesn’t it?” Regina snarked, and Rumple glowered at her. “Your incessant chirping is giving me a headache!” He snapped at her and she scoffed. “Oh your comfort levels are the least of my concerns right now. What I’m worried about is that homicidal teenager is still out there which means he’s still a threat to Henry!”

 

This time Emma spoke up. “She’s right Gold. What are we going to do about this?” She asked. Rumple sighed. “Well I do know that he’s nowhere in Storybrooke, because I can’t feel his magical energy. He doesn’t seem to be in Neverland either,” he supplied. Bae furrowed his eyebrows. “How do you know?” He asked and Rumple looked at him. “I would be able to feel the power radiating off the island. As of right now, there’s nothing,” he answered.

 

Suddenly Snow gasped, and clutched David’s arm. “What if he was sent outside the town line?” She asked, causing everyone to look at Gold. He sighed again. “I highly doubt it. Spells don’t work in places there’s no magic, whether the spell is casted in a magical place or not. He wouldn’t be able to appear out of thin air anywhere else because the lack of magic outside of the town line wouldn’t allow it.”

 

Regina frowned. “Well what if the spell tried to anyways? Then what, he’s stuck in some magical void? Because if he is, I vote we keep him there,” she said, raising her hand. Rumple shook his head though. “If he were stuck in a magical void, he’d be able to get out of it easily. Pan’s magic is incredibly powerful. What we saw on Neverland wasn’t even half of it,” he said. He should know too. He remembered when Peter wasn’t able to control his magic vey well as a child. He hated it.

 

He shook his head lightly. Now was not the time to be reminiscent. “What I don’t get is why he hasn’t tried to come back yet, wherever he is,” David spoke up, causing people to look at him with confusion. “Well you know Pan; he wanted to make our lives miserable. Since he can’t be in a non-magical place, that means he has to be somewhere with magic right? And Rumple, you said he was real powerful,” he said, gesturing to the elder man, before looking up at everyone again. “If he is somewhere magical, wouldn’t of he tried to come back already?”

 

Everyone was silent for a couple of seconds. “He could be plotting,” Regina considered, but Rumple shook his head roughly. “He had no need for that. He’s too smart,” he said, deeply considering the Prince’s words. “What are you getting at?” Hook questioned him but David just shook his head. “I’m not trying to draw any conclusions or anything. It’s just odd, that’s all,” he said. He was right too; it was completely odd. Rumple Pan better than anyone and he also knew that the minute Pan found out that he spell hadn’t worked, he would race back immediately to mess with Rumple in revenge for even trying to capture him. But nothing had happened. What does that mean?

 

“Maybe I should send him a message,” he finally said, and everyone looked up at him. “Do you really think he’ll actually reply to us if you do that?” Regina asked him skeptically. “He won’t have much of a choice. The message will look like a little portal; we’ll be able to see where he is as well,” Rumple said. “How long is this gonna take?” Emma asked. Rumple thought about it. “A few days,” he concluded.

 

Regina gaped at him. “A few days?” She said in disbelief, “what if you all are wrong about this? What if he really is in the town or is closer than we think?”

 

Rumple looked up at her solemnly. “Then,” he said, sighing gently. “Well, then that’s just a risk we’re going to have to take.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again thank you for bearing with my stupidity. Until next time.


	4. Gods, and Speedsters, and Men Encased in Metal (oh my)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pan is Introduced to the rest of the So-called “Avengers”, who are rightfully intimidated by the amount of power the teen possesses. After Pan helps out Clint, the group, with the persuasion of Thor, brings him back to the tower to discuss the universe he came from as well on how to get him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol yep so I’m back. Sorry I had to post one of my previous chapters again since I was an idiot and accidentally deleted it. Hope you like this next one.

* * *

“Hey!”

Pan was so invested in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed another person had cane into the vicinity. He looked down and saw a red headed woman in a tight black suit crouching down beside the arrow guy giving him a sharp look. She seemed to have been tending to the injured man before taking notice of him. They must’ve been partners or something. Pan arched an eyebrow at her. What did she want with him?

The woman looked at him suspiciously. “Who are you? Are you HYDRA?” She asked him brusquely. Pan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. What was that?

He highly doubted this woman was referring to the mythological sea monster.

"What??" He asked her as if she were speaking in tongues. The woman glared at him but the injured man clutched at her arm, grabbing her arm. "Nat..... Don't think......he's HYDRA but h-he has—" he coughed and grunted a bit more, "abilities...."

Nat furrowed her eyebrows and looked up at the teen, still suspicious. But when Clint started to moan again, she decided to deal with him later. "Clint's been hit pretty bad, guys. We’re going to need evac," she said into her com mic.

A bunch of shots flew all around her and she frowned irritably as she struggled to sustain Clint's wound. "Someone wanna deal with that bunker," She huffed, fidgeting to gauze Clint’s wounds. Seconds later the Hulk came barreling forwards, smashing the thing to bits. "Thank you!"

Pan looked on in awe and wonder. What in the hell was that thing?! Of all the beasts he's ever seen back in the enchanted forest, he'd never ever heard of a large green being. "What the hell?" He voiced his rather confused thoughts, causing Nat to look back at him. "Who even are you kid?" She questioned and Pan scowled at her. "Would you people stop calling me that?? For one, I can almost guarantee I'm older than both of you, and two, I already told the archer; I’m Peter Pan," he said.

Nat arched an eyebrow at him, looking down at Clint before back up at him again. "....As in the fairytale?" She asked slowly as if she were dealing with a small child. Pan sighed wistfully. He really didn't want to go over this again.

He was about to snap out a snarky remark when he heard another voice, now realizing that it was coming from the strange little gadget thing around her ear. "Go get Banner, Natasha. It's time for a lullaby," the voice said. Pan frowned in confusion. "Why does that thing in your ear keep speaking?" He asked confusedly. How was that even possible?

The red haired woman looked up at him in surprise. "You can hear my com—" she suddenly paused, a look of realization befalling her features. "Abilities...." She muttered to herself, recollecting what Clint had uttered out before. This must've been what he meant.

Looking back up to Pan, she said, "you have abilities right?"

Pan looked at her weirdly. "Of course I do. Don't the story books in your world say that?" And then it hit him: other than the story book that Henry had, most fairy tales in this world—or any normal like world other than Neverland and the Fairytale world at least—got most of the stories wrong. For example, he had heard that his own real world version described him as a good person, younger, funnily enough, had Hook portrayed as his main for and villain (like the pirate would even have a chance), and only able to fly with pixie dust, which was absolutely absurd. He also apparently had some relationship with Wendy too, which was just as ridiculous. Not once did Wendy and he had any kind of romantic relation with each other during the time they spent together in Neverland. He held her hand a few times but that was it. Nothing really romantic about it; unless she had perceived it to be. Pan rolled his yes. Yet another reason why girls didn't belong on Neverland. They don't have a clue about anything.

Nat looked at him inquiringly, but ignored his statement. "You think you could use whatever kind of power you have to subdue his pain?" She asked him.

Pan shrugged indifferently. "Well I could but why would I?” He said ignoring the indignant look on her face. He had just met these people—they were obviously no use to him, so why should he help them? Besides they don’t believe that he’s Peter Pan, which was really annoying. He had nothing to owe them.

Nat glared at him. “To be helpful?” She asked with annoyance. Pan only shrugged again. “Doesn’t sound very fun,” he said.

The assassin silently fumed. She was seconds away from attacking this kid and snapping his neck. Letting out a loose breath, she eyed him with irritation. “So what you’re just going to stand there and do nothing?” She asked him acerbically.

The boy looked at her for a couple of seconds before nodding. “Essentially, yes,” he said.

Nat sighed. She didn’t have time for this. “Look just watch over him, okay?” She asked, getting up and running to find Bruce.

Pan furrowed his eyebrows. Where the hell did she think she was going? “What part of the concept of ‘not helping’ do you not understand?” He called after her but she was already out of earshot. He had to admit, that woman can run fast.

Grunting, Pan crossed his arms over his chest and looked at the injured man with disdain. He had half a mind to just leave him here and try to teleport away. But his powers weren’t working well at the moment so he doubted anything that required as much magic as teleportation did would work—plus, the man’s stuttering breaths and moans of pain were getting on his nerves. He sighed, a large feeling of reluctance falling over him. Fine. He supposed he could do the man a favour.

As he went to kneel down beside him, a voice shouted out at him. “Hey!” Pan looked up to see a red and yellow machine like thing that weirdly enough was shaped like a man fly towards him. Huh. That’s a little familiar. He racked his brain, trying to recollect the book of weird normal human things/concepts he read. What was it, the machine like being things humans referred to? Ah! Robots, that’s it!

But something seemed a little off about this so-called Robot. He could sense a life force or something in it. He squinted at one eye holes, and was surprised to see an actual human eye through it. This robot held an actual human being inside of it? He also took notice of what was in its hand. Some kind of glowing sceptre?

He quirked his eyebrow. Man, this place sure had a lot of weird things.

“The fuck…?” He questioned, eyeing the robot-man thing with confusion. The hybrid gasped. “Uh oh Rogers, mystery guy said a bad word!” He said to apparently “Rogers,” whoever the hell that was. Pan couldn’t see anyone else in sight.

“Give it a rest—wait, what mystery guy?” He heard a little voice buzz, similar to the one he had heard with that Nat woman before. He guessed that robot man had one of those little ear machines as well and that these people were all together.

Well, that would explain the weird outfits.

“I’m about to find out,” he heard the metal man mutter before he extended his arm towards him, a small circle on the palm of his hand glowing. Pan hadn’t the slightest clue as to what it was, but he knew that it must be dangerous. He recognized the stance this man was withholding—he had seen it so many times before—whoever this guy was, he was threatening him.

Pan’s reaction was the same as the ones he had with the various other people who had threatened him. He smirked.

“Okay kid, I don’t know who you are, but Nat said you might be dangerous, though I don’t know when she started considering 15 year olds a threat,” he said, and Pan rolled his eyes lightly. "But I'm gonna have to ask you to step away from bird beak here."

Pan paid no mind to the nickname, despite not having a clue as to why the metal man was calling the archer that. "Okay first of all, I'm 400 years old," he said, smiling slightly as he could practically imagine the surprise on the man's face behind his metal mask. "And secondly, I was about to help your friend, but if you don't want me to, by all means that's fine."

The metal man looked at him. Pan could feel his skepticism. "Help him how?" He asked. Pan smirked. "Like this," he said and put his hand over the wound. Though his magic wasn't working well right now, he thought a tiny use of it for something such as healing wouldn't cause too much strain.

He noticed the robot man tense up, a whirring sound flowing through the air as the yellow circle on his palm glowed brighter and he rolled his eyes. "Relax," he told him, and started use magic to stabilize the archer. Although his magic wasn't in the right shape to heal him, he knew that he could at least take the pain away.

Tony watched in awe as a light, almost lime green hue swirled out of the young boys palm and onto Barton's wound. The teams archer's ragged breaths and groans of pain halted instantly. The injured man was now breathing steadily and his eyes fluttered shut. They boy pulled his hand back and looked at him blankly. "He doesn't feel the pain anymore," he said simply.

The billionaire gawked. What in the hell did he just witness?

Although he couldn't see his face, Pan could tell he was confused. "Another Asgardian?" He questioned to himself and Pan frowned at him. "A what?" He asked. The metal man cocked its head to the side. "You mean to tell me that you're not Asgardian?" He asked. Pan opened his mouth to once again ask what the hell that was, but was cut off by a strong breeze and a large whooshing sound in the air. He looked to the left of the metal man to see that yet another guy in weird clothes had appeared. He hand long blonde hair and was holding a very thick square-like hammer in his hand. Almost immediately, Pan could feel the amount of power radiating off of this guy. He was not like the others he had seen; he wasn't human.

"What's this about there being an Asgardian?" The man asked in a booming voice to the robot guy, who gestured lightly at Pan. "You recognize this kid?" He asked him. "He had abilities similar to Loki's."

Pan was about to snap at him for being called a kid again, but stopped under the gaze of the burly blonde guy. He want intimidated by him or anything, but he was not going to lie, he was interested. "He indeed does seem very powerful despite being only a boy. But he's not Asgardian," he concluded, still looking at Pan as he rose to his feet. "But there is something different about this but I cannot explain. Perhaps we should bring him back to the tower," he suggested.

Pan arched an eyebrow. "Yeah no, I'm not going anywhere with you people. Why would I, I don't even know you guys, and for another," he gestured to the sceptre in the metal man's hand. "That thing—it's emitting more power than him and his hammer combined," he said, pointing to the long blonde haired non mortal man, "do you even understand it?"

Tony and Thor exchanged looks. "He can sense the level of power of things? Thor are you sure this guy isn't Asgardian?" Tony asked the God, who opened his mouth to reply but was cut off by the boy who gave him an inquiring look. “Thor? As in the Norse God of thunder?” He questioned, surprising boy Tony and Thor once again. The boy let out a breathy laugh. “Well that explains why you’re so powerful then,” he said.

“You know of me?” He asked him. The boy nodded. “Of course I do, I studied a ton of books about common human culture and beliefs back in Neverland,” he said, confusing Thor. “What is Neverland?” He asked Tony, who sighed wistfully as he remembered what Nat had said about this kid thinking that he’s Peter Pan. “It’s a made up world from a fairytale,” he said, emphasizing the word fairytale, hoping that this kid would take the hint.

Oh and kid took the hint alright; but he was not happy. He growled in annoyance. “Neverland is a real place, it’s just not in your world,” he said through gritted teeth. Tony furrowed his eyebrows, startled at his words. “Wait; our world?” He asked him confusedly. Was this kid from another world or planet like Thor was?

The boy sighed and walked towards them. “See that’s exactly what I’ve wanted to tell you people, I’m not from this universe—“

He vanished out of sight.

Both Thor and Tony looked at the spot where the kid once was beside Clint with wife, bewildered eyes. “Uh, what just happened?” Tony asked no one in particular. Where the hell did the kid just go? His com set rung and on the other side was Steve’s voice speaking to him

“Tony do you have anything to do with this teenager in our ship currently swearing like a madman?” He asked him.

Tony exchanged a look with Thor. Well, that answered that question.

“His claims his name to be Peter Pan, which I’ve learned is an adolescent in one of your world’s folktales,” Thor helpfully explained as Tony went to pick Clint up, “he also possesses magical abilities which I sense is quite strong.”

“Yeah, so don’t give him a spanking over the swearing, okay mama Steve?” Tony said, as he and Thor started to fly back to the air ship. Laughs filled his ears directly from the com set.

“I hate you people.”

Silence followed. Toy waited until it sunk in. Two.... three.....

“Wait, his name is what?”

Aaaaand there it is.

 

The ride back was mostly just Pan sulking and brooding about how he didn’t want to be here. And he certainly wasn’t wanted here either. Most crew members had tried to interrogate him but one singular glare sent them away. Even the so-called assassin, whom he had learned was named Natasha Romanov, or Black Widow (which was her superhero name…? Pan had no clue, he was generally lost), had backed away warily. Thor had said that it was important for him to be there and that once they got back to the base (wherever that was), they would be able to question him more comfortably.

But Pan didn’t care about being comfortable—he didn’t even care about being questioned—he only refused to say anything because all of their questions were stupid. They kept asking if he was some HYDRA agent or spy and stuff like that, and what his ulterior motives were with them, despite the fact that he ad told them time and time again that he had not came here on his own free will, he still didn’t know what the bloody hell a HYDRA agent was supposed to be, and he wasn’t even aware of the name of the flying metal thing he was currently inside of. Seriously, what is this thing?

It eventually got to the point where Pan snapped at them and accidentally let his powers go off, causing the flying metal crate they were in to start shaking. Once being able to calm the engine down, these so-called “Avengers” wisely backed off and left Pan to brooding again. His little outburst had seemingly convinced them that he wasn’t whatever HYDRA was because they all introduced themselves:

The short haired blonde who also had bulging muscles and was dressed in the American flag attire was named—go figure—Captain America, or Steve Rogers. Most of the gang called him Cap or Rogers. Despite being the gang’s leader, he was the least abrasive of the group.

The man who was in the metal suit was named Tony Stark—apparently he was some kind of billionaire inventor big shot that was known globally. He was also a huge jackass. The amount of sass this man had was unmeasurable. Despite this, Pan found him amusing. He would be fun to mess with.

His hero name was Iron Man; again, go figure.

The archer’s name was Clint Barton, or Hawkeye. He and Natasha were assassins, and also close friends. He was a pretty chill and laid back guy, other than Nat, who did not look like a force to be reckoned with. He was hiding some kind of big secret from the rest of the group though—Pan could tell. As a person who has accumulated many secrets over the course of his life, he knows exactly what it looks like to be harbouring a huge one; even if it didn’t look like it, your hugest secret is always on your mind—and this guy, though Pan would admit, was good at hiding it, was showing it through his facial posture. He deducted that whatever the secret was, the injury he had was or will be something connected to it in a way.

However Pan didn’t overanalyze it—though he probably could’ve figured out more if he wanted to, he found that he really didn’t care enough to try.

However, the one person he found most interesting was Bruce Banner. This was predominantly due to the fact that he held his emotions clear on his face. As well as finding him interesting, Pan was also confused by him. He had learned that the big green thing that he had seen earlier on, and Banner were two in the same being—from a failed experiment, he supposed, as Banner was also a doctor as well as a scientist—the Hulk, it was called. But there wasn’t much harmony between the two individuals. Pan noted that although there was somewhat of a bond (which had obviously taken a while to accumulate), there was a hint of disagreement that seemed to put a wedge between the two; their power. One embraced it, one despised it—and that was the thing that had Pan confused. Banner was clearly not only incredibly powerful, but immortal as well—why was he rejecting such power?

The emotions that he wore on his sleeve gave him the answer; Banner carried more pain and suffered more inner turmoil than most of the rest of the group. He was in constant pain, absolutely hating himself for his past sins and despaired that he could do nothing about it. His inner demon wasn’t the Hulk— his inner demon was his loss of control.

It made Pan feel something he hadn’t felt in a long while; empathy.

Soon they arrived at a large tower with an ‘A’ on the top of it—for “Avengers,” Pan assumed—and the metal flying craft they’re in finally landed. Barton was wheeled away to some asian looking females in what he could only assume was nurse wear, and he himself was lead to some kind of leisure room nearby. After some slight encouragement, Pan reluctantly sat down on one of the couches.

The Avengers didn’t waste anytime. As soon as he sat down, they interrogated him with a bunch of questions. Albeit, slightly less stupid from before, but still dumb all the same.

Pan stared blankly at them, refusing to say a word until everyone had stopped talking. Taking the hint, the group simmered down and he sighed. “As I was telling Stark and Thor before, I am not from this universe.” Nat arched an eyebrow. "So you’re from another world, or planet,” she surmised and Pan sighed again. They weren’t getting it.

“No,” he said slowly, taking this as slow as possible. They gave him unamused looks, which Pan pointedly ignored. If they don’t want to be condescended, then they shouldn’t act so stupid. “As far as I’m aware, this ‘Asgard’ place as Stark had once mentioned is a different world, or planet. Where I’m from, there is no ‘Asgard’ and there are no ‘Avengers’ or whatever you call yourselves. It is an earth just like this, except it has a small town somewhere in the US called Storybrooke, which is a town filled up with fairytale characters,” he explained, “and in that universe, Neverland exists.”

At their blank stares, Pan closed his eyes and took a deep breath to gather the patience and willpower he needed for his next explanation. “Do you know the Evil Queen?” he asked them, “and Snow white and Prince Charming?” They all nodded except Thor, who looked confused. Pan dismissed him. He was sure someone would deal with him later.

“Charming and Snow had a child—her name was Emma. However, they had the child right before Regina—the evil queen—was going to cast a large curse over the entirety of the enchanted forest and anyone who dwelled in it. This was her revenge,” he told them, the Avengers hanging onto his every word, “before the curse cast, Snow and Charming had sent their daughter through some magical tree that sent her to the real life world instead of the magical world,” he said, ignoring everyone’s confused looks at his blatant explanation.

“This Emma girl is also known as the Saviour, because she would be the one to break this curse. Said curse had already befallen on the people by the way, and sent them into a town real life world too, except with new names, new memories, and no recollection of the curse or the lives they had lived beforehand. The only one who had magic and maintained her memories was Regina, who was the mayor of the town and used the curse to make all of their lives hell,” he couldn’t help but roll his eyes a little at that, “Things would be the same and the same events of the same day would repeat for twenty eight years, until Henry, the adoptive son of Regina and the biological son of Emma and Rumplestiltskin’s son, Baelfire, and non-coincidentally is also the owner of the heart I tried to take, went to find Emma and bring her to Storybook when he was around the age of ten. Stuff happened, Emma broke the curse and everyone regained their memories,” he summarized.

He was not at all surprised to see the bewildered expressions on every single one of their faces.

He sighed. “Too fast?”

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “You think?”

Pan sighed again. Usually explaining things wasn’t this frustrating. However he had never needed to explain concepts of his own world to other people before; and he never would have guessed that he would be explaining his own universe to people in another.

Life truly is odd, isn’t it?

"So this curse thing that the Queen casted transferred every single one of the fairytale people into the real world, and gave them all fake memories with no recognition of their magical world?" Tony half-assedly summarized and when Pan nodded, he frowned. "That's her revenge plot? Sounds pretty mediocre to me."

Everyone gave Tony different levels of incredulous looks, which he ignored. Pan grinned slightly. "I know. You'd think she'd opt for something less boring," he said, amused at how Stark was least affected by the news.

Natasha was now starting to look a little less suspicious and more curious. However, Pan knew she was indifferent and hadn't made a choice on whether to trust him or not, he could tell by her demeanour. He liked her instincts, and the fact that she seemed to be one of the only people in the group who had a clue, so he held some respect for her. "If this curse went everywhere, why weren't you affected?" She asked. Pan just smiled simply. "The curse never reached Neverland," he said, "and even if it had, my magic would have fended it off."

Okay so maybe he was stretching the truth a bit there—he honestly had no clue if his magic could fend off such a powerful curse, but in Neverland, the odds were likely. And he was rarely ever wrong.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said, raising his hand as if to ask for a turn to speak, “Can we go back to the part where you said that you tried to take a child’s heart?” Everyone looked slightly disturbed after that, though Pan couldn’t really understand why. “What about it?” he asked and they widened their eyes at him. “You tried to take someone’s heart out of their chest,” Steve said slowly, as if he was trying to process this information. “I didn’t just try, I succeeded for a while until they took it back from me,” he corrected them. Their confused looks did not cease. In fact, they only deepened. “Wh- what did you do with it?” Bruce asked, almost afraid to ask. Pan frowned at him. Wasn’t it obvious? “I put it in my own chest, of course,” he said as if he were explaining 1+3. What else would he do with it? Crush it? He almost laughed at the thought. Yeah, he’d have to be a maniac to do that.

Bruce gaped at him while the others looked at him with slight disgust. “You mean to tell me that you killed a young boy and out his heart in your chest?” Natasha asked him, eyeing him as if he were a psychopath. Pan sighed. They weren’t listening to him. “It didn’t kill him, because he got it back,” he explained, missing their perplexed looks, “Yes he would’ve died if I had kept it but the damned queen ripped it out of my chest and got it back to him,” he said a little resentfully. He was still a bit bitter about that. “Usually removing their heart wouldn’t kill them unless you crushed it, but Henry was a rare exception.”

Surprisingly, they all looked at him with expressions ranging from being disturbed or scared or a good in between. “You can remove hearts from people without killing them from your world?” Clint deadpanned, blinking at Pan with disbelief. He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Pan swore he had explained this properly. The entire process itself was pretty self explanatory if you asked him, so he couldn’t understand what they didn’t get about this.

“Yes, you simply plunge your hand into their chest and take the heart out. With it, you can command said person to do whatever you want and they are not able to die for the time being, unless you crush the heart yourself,” Pan explained, eyebrow arching at their shocked and slightly horrified looks. “......You can’t do that here?” He asked, even though he already knew the answer. Of course you couldn’t. This place had flying machines and weird, yet incredibly advanced “technology” as the real worlders called it, but they didn’t have something as simple as the removal of hearts? Typical.

Tony slowly shook his head. “Nope you cant pull out hearts to control people around here. The most you’ll get out of that is a lot of blood on your hands,” he explained slowly, as if he were explaining a completely different concept; which, in a way, he was.

Pan looked at him idly, before shrugging. “I already do have a lot of blood on my hands,” he stated simply. Everyone eyed him warily as Tony blinked multiple times. “Uh, I meant literally, not—“ he started, but Pan cut him off with a raise of his hand. “I know what you meant,” he sighed, rolling his eyes lightly.

Bruce still couldn’t get over he fact that he had tried to murder a child. “Why would you do that?!” He exclaimed and Pan looked up at him with a bored expression. “I was trying to save my Island and myself. Besides, it’s not the first time I’ve killed kids,” he shrugged slightly, “or anyone for that matter. Like I said, I’ve got a lot of blood on my hands.”

The Avengers looked at the teen in disbelief. Okay, so they were harbouring a serial killer: great. “And how do we know you’re not going to go around killing people in our world?” Rogers asked, eyeing him with cautious and suspicion.

Pan squinted at these people. Are they serious?

Their looks remained unwavering and he sighed. Okay, they were serious.

“There’s absolutely no reason for me to do that,” he told him, “these people have done nothing to me and I only kill with a cause: besides, it’s not like I want to stay here. I just want to get back to my own world as soon as possible,” he said honestly, trying to convey that on his face. He won them over instantly, which was no surprise. He was the king of manipulation, after all. He could be convincing when he wanted to manipulate or even when he just wanted to tell the truth—and in this case, it was the truth.

The Avengers shared questioning looks. To be completely honest, this kid was creeping them out; he claimed to be a 400 year immortal being that came straight out of a world where fairytales were real and hearts could be ripped out of a person’s chest without killing them—it sounded a bit unreal.

Then again, life made no sense at all: and the kid did seem to have powers. Though there seemed to be a good chance the teen was lying, there was also a chance that he could be telling the truth.

“JARVIS, scan,” Stark commanded to the air, and Pan quirked an eyebrow as some orange like light went through him from the top of his body to the bottom. To his great surprise, a voice spoke up out of nowhere. “I cannot find any records on this being, sir,” a British accented voice stated. Pan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, looking around wildly. Who the hell was talking?

The voice continued, ‘however, it appears that he has some very strong sense of supernatural abilities within him.”

Tony frowned. “How strong?”

“I’d say as much as the sceptre, sir. Maybe more.”

There were murmurs heard around the room as everyone exchanged shocked and confused glances. This guy was just a teenager—how the hell could he be that powerful?!

“Okay, who the hell was talking just now, what is that- thing?” Pan questioned, highly freaked out. He swore that the commoners in his world did not have creepy stuff like this.

The Avengers glanced at each other for what must’ve been the twelfth time in the past hour. None of them wanted to try and explain JARVIS to a boy who barely even knew what a car was.

Bruce glanced at Tony. Nat glanced at him too. Then Clint did. Then Steve did. And finally, Thor as well. Heck, even Pan himself felt his own eyes drift to the inventor, who was unknowing to the attention he had Inadvertently drawn to himself.

When Tony finally noticed all of their glances, he opened his mouth to protest—then closed it with a sigh. He knew it was already way past arguable that he would inevitably have to explain the program to the teen. It made sense; he was the one who had created JARVIS after all.

It didn’t make him dread the conversation any less.

(A/N: I’m not about to write this entire explanation down because 1. I have no idea how to explain what JARVIS is, and 2. I’m too lazy).

After Tony explained what JARVIS was to Pan (four different ways cause the boy did not understand nor know of half of the things he was talking about), he arched an eyebrow questioningly. “So it’s basically a man made technologically based human mind without a body....?” He asked slowly, seeking confirmation. Tony exchanged a look with Bruce, who shrugged indifferently, before nodding back at Pan. “Basically,” he agreed.

The immortal boy looked at them with vast confusion. “What is the point of making that when you’ve already made robots that can essentially do the same thing?” He asked, not seeing the necessity of having the ai program.

“I believe that I have more capabilities than the Iron Legion has to offer, with no offence directed on your behalf sir,” the techno mind spoke up, once again making Pan jump. “Is there a way to shut it off?” He asked with annoyance. He was getting tired of hearing the—thing’s voice pop out of nowhere.

Tony looked at him as if he were crazy. “JARVIS practically runs half of my enterprise,” he said in an incredulous tone, as if his words were supposed to mean something to Pan. Which they didn’t; what even was an enterprise supposed to be?

“That’s not what I asked,” Pan replied calmly, although his eyes were narrowed dangerously. He was trying hard to keep his powers in check and the invisible talking technology was not helping by spewing out comments left and right. One more outburst from the thing, and Pan just might set the couch on fire— whether on purpose or not.

The group exchanged looks, before Steve looked back at the him. “Is there anything we can do to help get you back?” He asked, wisely changing the subject before something got out of hand. He didn’t care enough to suspect whether or not he was lying; he just wanted the homicidal teenager back where he came from, before he caused any trouble.

Pan gave them a judgemental look. “With your current.... technology, I think not,” he said a bit snidely, to which Tony took slight offence to. The others noticed and laughed a bit. It was always funny to see Tony get a bit of a blow to his ego.

“Listen kid, our technology seems to be much more advanced than where you come from,” he said, feeling he need to one up a world that could be fake or imaginary for all the knew. Childish, yes, but Tony didn’t care. He wouldn’t let his accomplishments be insulted by some smug adolescent.

Pan arched an eyebrow. “Does your world have magic, Stark?” He asked him. Everyone gestured to the God standing before him. Pan raised his eyebrows at Thor, inviting him to speak up. The Thunder God quivered a bit under his calculating stare and cleared his throat, looking around sheepishly. “Inter-dimensional travel already takes an enormous amount of seidr that no Asgardian or sorcerer could ever posses: not even Loki,” he explained, and looked over at the others apologetically. “I’m sorry, my friends. It appears that Asgard can not help in this situation.”

Tony sighed thoughtfully. “Well, considering S.H.I.E.L.D will probably put you in a cage and judging by your amount of power, it won’t work out very well, I guess you can stay here with us,” he concluded. Pan smiled widely at him. “How considerate of you,” he said snidely.

While Tony looked at him like he was greatly reconsidering his offer, Nat and Clint looked greatly amused. However, Steve and Bruce still held wary looks on their faces. It was obvious that Pan still intimidated them. He couldn’t help but he regaled by that.

“If you’re going to stay here, you can’t use your powers,” Rogers stayed firmly. Pan smiled slightly. “Wasn’t planning on doing so,” he said. “This seems like a nice building, and my powers haven’t became well accustomed to this new environment yet; it’d be an awful shame for it to become decimated.”

That only gained him more distrustful looks. “Okay maybe we should just keep him outside,” Tony said, eyeing Pan with slight contempt, “I don’t want some ticking time bomb in the form of a teenager ruining my work.” Nat looked at him with an arched eyebrow. “You’re already harbouring an equally dangerous sceptre in here, Stark,” she reminded him, and the man pursed his lips. Clearly he could not find a suitable argument for that.

“....Fair enough,” he said, turning to look at Pan again. “Don’t touch anything. Also, we’re having a victory party, you’re welcome to join so long as you don’t kill anyone. But you’ll need to lose the get-up,” he said, gesturing to Pan’s rather peculiar outfit.

The immortal boy furrowed his eyebrows. “A party?” He asked a little curiously and the man sighed. “Please tell me you know what a party is,” he said plainly, although there was a sense of pleading in his tone.

Pan actually was familiar with the concept of a party, but the fact that Stark might have to explain it to him seemed to be something the elder man was dreading. So, for the sake of his own personal amusement, he shrugged, portraying a look of curiosity.

His plan, as usual, worked perfectly. Tony three his hands up in the air. “I give up. I’m not explaining this, someone else do it.” He then tapped Bruce on the shoulder. “Banner, a word with you in the other room please,” he said and started walking away. Bruce, although a bit shocked, got up to follow him.

Pan eyed the two as they walked away. Clearly there was something that Tony wanted to share with the other scientist that he did not want the others knowing. But they took no notice of it, which Pan presumed was most likely because none of them were interested in the scientific stuff that the other two conversed about. But he had an itching feeling that they would be in time, because Stark had an ambitious look on his face; whatever he was planning, he wanted it to happen as soon as possible.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s all for now. Ultron’s coming in the next chap.


	5. What Do You Mean it's Not Dead??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party goes well, until it doesn't. Pan still has a hard time grasping the idea of modern technology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter, and thanks for leaving kudos, much appreciated.

“No,” Pan said, immediately rebuking the idea of having to wear the strange outfit Tony was currently showing him.

Tony sighed. “C’mon kid, it’s just a suit,” he said tiredly. He really didn’t want to get in an argument about this. He had the time to, yes—the party wouldn’t start for another hour or so—he just really didn’t want to.

Pan scrunched his nose in distaste. “I don’t care what it’s called, I’m not wearing it,” he said, glaring at the clothes. The “suit” as Tony referred to it to, consisted of dark trousers with a matching jacket that seemed to be made out of the same material, over a fancy white blouse and some kind of long neck contraption that reminded him of a glorified noose. 

Conclusively, it looked incredibly uncomfortable and suffocating. They might as well dress him in a corset.

Tony rubbed his face blearily. “Just put it on,” he said. Pan glared at him and resisted the urge to throw a fireball at the suit to burn it into ashes; only because his powers still weren’t working as well and he couldn’t risk setting the entire room on fire. “I don’t see why I can’t just wear my regular clothes,” he protested.

The inventor looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, as if the answer to his question was obvious. When Pan said nothing, he just sighed. “The objective is to make you blend in, and having you walk around as though you’ve been stuck in Medieval times is not helping achieve that notion,” Tony explained. "What's wrong with that?" Pan asked, shrugging his shoulders. He was rather fond of the common world's interpretation of Medieval times; especially since that time solved their problems the prosperous way—by execution. 

Tony looked at him blankly. He was seconds away from giving up. "Pan, you're going to look ridiculous," he explained, hoping the teenager wouldn't send some kind of magic blast towards him to murder him where he stood. Pan, although slightly offended, just scowled at him. "And dressing me in that isn't gonna make me look ridiculous?" He asked, pointing towards the suit.

Tony's eye twitched. "This is what normal people wear to big celebrations and get togethers such as this one," he said slowly, emphasizing each word as much as possible to try and help the boy understand.

Pan's scowl deepened. It wasn't him who didn't understand the current situation—it was Stark. Pan was aware that people viewed ridiculously constricting clothing like these suits as proper attire to wear when partaking in special and fancy social events—no, he grasped that (rather stupid) concept good and well; he just didn't care. And that was the part that Tony was evidently having trouble following.

"If this is the "norm" in your world, then the people here should be ashamed of themselves," Pan sneered, looking at the suit with a scathing expression. Tony promptly dropped the suit and put his head in his hands as if he were reliving a nightmare—which, to be honest, was pretty close to how he was feeling right now.

"Pan, I beg of you, just wear it, please?" He asked the boy. Pan scowled at the suit again. He knew the party would start in an hour and the gang still needed time to prep and also discuss the fake story they'd make up to explain his sudden appearance. He sighed wistfully. Although he still didn't truss them, these people had offered him refuge—the least he could do is pay them back.

Still....

"I'll wear the shirt and the trousers, but I am not going to wear that jacket," he said, pointing to the fancy black coat with disdain. "Or that 'tie' as you refer to it as."

To his amusement, the man quickly grabbed the jacket and tie, instantly throwing them out of the room before turning back to Pan, a relieved expression on his face. "Done, and done," Tony said expressively, then clasped his hands together. "Now please for the love of God, change into those clothes so I can finally send you to Nat." 

Pan furrowed his eyebrows. "Why are you sending me to Nat?" He asked him curiously. 

Tony gave him a slight look of disbelief, before his eyes flickered up to the top of his head. "We need to fix the act that your hair looks like it hasn't been groomed since; well, since you were born. And judging by how long you've said to have lived, you can take a guess on how bad it looks."

Pan frowned at him, to whichTony added, "and she also seems to be the least likely of us that you will try and murder for doing so." He grabbed his clothes off the floor and tossed it to the boy, which he catches easily. "So yeah; change up." Flicking two thumbs up, the inventor then walked out of the room.

Pan stared at the door with annoyance before begrudgingly beginning to change. His hair wasn't that bad....

.

.

The party was off to a good start. The team decided to use the excuse of Pan being a very tech-savvy orphan that Tony had decided to take in, considering it would be the most believable story. To their slight surprise, people bought it, and the Avengers had to admit, Pan was pretty good at portraying himself as a young, innocent kid with his shy smiles and wide eyed expression.

Pan suspected, however, that they did not realize his reasoning for his wide eyed look was more to do with the fact that he was trying his hardest not to glower.

He hated parties—unless you counted the celebration that he had held for Henry or the numerous dances his Lost Boys would partake in around the campfire, he had little experience and was not used to them at all. The atmosphere was full of the smell of liquor, fake laughter, stupid jokes, and secret sexual desires. Pan couldn't read minds, but he didn't have to; he was an observer. He saw how these people interacted with each other. They couldn't make themselves more obvious, despite being from a completely different universe. He rolled his eyes. Commoners were all the same.

Another thing he despised was the fact that he was forced to interact with these people. It wasn't enough that there was far too many of them; they also had to be social with him too. It was sickening. Some of these people even had the audacity to touch him. Pan very nearly broke the wrist of a man that had clamped his hand on his shoulder in what he could only assume was supposed to be a "friendly gesture", in regards to the laugh that came with it. 

Fortunately for the man, Tony had quickly ended the conversation and steered him away from the man before he could act upon his intentions. He had been chided for his rude behaviour but Pan just glared at him, and Tony backed off. It was a good thing too; these people were setting him on edge, and when he was on edge, his powers were not as compliant as the usually were.

He looked around with scorn as a bunch of people walked by him, some waving hello at him and some winking, mostly females. He received a lot of attention from a lot of females. Actually, their ages ranging from young to some even as old as 60 or 70. The elder ones he could get; there was always something about elderly women flirting with young men, but it was all in good fun. Pan knew that—to them, it was just a game. The younger females however, were taking the game too seriously. Some of these women, already buzzed and boozed out of their minds, thought any small gesture a man gave them meant that they actually were showing interest in them. 

Despite how pathetic that sounded, Pan was amused by this and had found fun by leading these women on, winking at them and putting on his usual boyish charm that women always seemed to detect in him. He wouldn't let them get too close though; at least not close enough to touch him like the others had before. He hated being touched; it reminded him too much of the—

He shook his head clear of the memory that was threatening to emerge. He had the time to be reminiscent but that did not at all mean that he was going to be. 

To his utter relief, the party finally started to come to an end. Right now the Avengers were sitting down in a circle with some of their close-knit friends (Pan wasn’t aware they had any) and Clint was currently mocking Thor about his hammer, mjolnir as Pan learned it was called. There was a specific thing about the god's hammer—no one but Thor could lift it. No one could even more it. Pan had first assumed that it was because the metal was too heavy but the rest had claimed, to his utter surprise, that even the Hulk himself couldn't lift it. When he asked Bruce for clarification, the man had only nodded in agreement.

When he had asked Thor, the man started to ramble on and on about the hammer's history, and mentioned something about worthiness and no one else being worthy enough to wield it? Pan honestly couldn't remember, and he had stopped caring to be truthful. Even now at this moment as the banter had kept going, he was just quietly sipping from his drink; the Asgardian stuff that Thor had brought. Steve had first been reluctant to let him have any, as he still appeared to be an 18 year old, but Pan just waved him off and took some for himself. He drank the shot and felt the tiniest burn at the back of his throat—Thor had been impressed. But it was nothing too fantastic; Pan's magic was powerful and it, along with his immortality, prevented him from being drunk—and the real reason he decided to drink was only to fit in with the crowd.

That, and he was thirsty—and he couldn't find any water.

"Oh, "He whoever should be worthy shall haveth the poweeeer!!” whatever man, it’s a trick!" Clint said, snickering along with the rest of the group. Thor just laughed at him. "Well then," the god said, gesturing to his hammer, “please, be my guest."

Clint rose his eyebrows, but got up from his seat nonetheless. Murmurs of amusement travelled through the crowd as the archer confidently strutted over to the hammer. “Clint, you’ve had a tough week, we won’t holdout against you if you can’t get it up,” Tony said in his ever-so condescending voice. Clint ignored him and shot Thor a cocky look. “You know I’ve seen this before right?” he told the man as he grasped at the handle. Thor just grinned at him awaiting the utter failure that Pan knew Barton was about to display.

This was going to be amusing.

Just as Pan expected, Clint couldn’t lift it. He made a strained noise as he tried and the immortal teen couldn’t help but snort into his drink. What a moron. 

“I still don’t know how you do it!” Clint said, laughing along with everyone else. He rolled his eyes. Honestly these people should just take Thor’s word for it; nothing else in this world made sense after all. The worthy hammer theory seemed like the only normal bit of information he received when coming into this universe. He still wasn’t used to the whole JARVIS thing.

“Smell the silent judgement?” Tony asked Clint, who gestured towards him. “Please, Stark by all means,” he said, and Tony took the bait instantly, standing up with a fresh air of arrogance to him, which caused knowing commentary from the rest of the group. “Never one to shrink from an honest challenge,” Stark stated. Pan’s smirk widened. This was going to be even more amusing.

“So if I lift it, I then rule all of Asgard?” Tony asked and Pan inclined his head with questioning. That’s how this thing worked? “Yes, of course,” Thor said seriously, although he was grinning even more than before. Heck, everyone was grinning in anticipation, probably more than excited to watch Tony make a complete and utter fool of himself. Even Rogers looked like he was biting back a smile. 

“I will be re-instituting Prima Nocta.” Pan had no idea as to what that was supposed to mean, but he didn’t dwell on it too much; he was too busy smirking amusedly at Tony’s failed attempt to lift the hammer. He stared at it for a moment before releasing it and walking away. “Be right back,” he said.

Stark then returned with one of the supposed super powered gloves from his hero suit. Even at it’s full power, that did nothing. Eventually Rhodey, who Pan learned had a suit similar to Tony’s, went to help with his own glove; both of them couldn’t do anything.

“Are you even pulling?” Rhodes asked, breathing heavily.

“Are you on my team?” Tony retorted, though he was visibly struggling.

Rhodes just shook his head. “Just represent man, pull!” he said, both men straining themselves even more. Still, nothing was accomplished. 

It soon turned into a rather regaling feat of most people trying to lift up the hammer, with Banner going next and promptly humiliating himself by trying to turn into the Hulk when he failed to lift the hammer. “No?” he said when everyone just stared at him. Pan, along with the rest of the group, just looked at him plainly. Pitiful.

Even Steve couldn’t lift it, super serum or no (yes, Pan knew of that too; he also knew that Rogers was well over 70 years old as—he wasn’t just going to stay with these people and not ask questions), although he did move it a little bit. Pan seemed to be the only one to notice Thor’s smile be replaced with a look of concern for a moment, only to return when the Captain finally gave up. “Haha, nothing,” Thor said, albeit a little warily. Pan couldn’t help but snigger at him. Nothing. Yeah right.

Unfortunately Thor seemed to notice and he raised his eyebrows at the young boy. “Peter? Want to give it a go?” he asked him a tad bit mockingly. Pan eyed him with a smirk. A challenge?

Oh, how he loved those. After all, no game was made without a proper challenge. Otherwise it wouldn’t be a game at all.

The boy shrugged and everyone watched silently as the he made his way over to the hammer. “It’ll be okay if you can’t lift it, we will all understand,” Thor said and Pan rolled his eyes before wrapping his fingers around the handle. He had to suppress a gasp. This weapon was powerful indeed. He liked it. But as he made the tiniest pull, he also realized that it was incredibly easy for him to lift. However, even with this knowledge, he wasn’t going to yet. It was all apart of the game; he was going to allow Thor to believe he was “unworthy” so that he could see the God’s bewilderment later on when he lifts it.

If there was one thing he loved more than his games, it was confusing people with them.

So, suppressing a smirk by biting his cheek, Pan feigned struggle and let out a breathy laugh. “It’s way too heavy for me,” he joked, the other people laughing slightly as he sat down, smiling into his cup. He looked to his right and saw Nat looking at him with a knowing expression and he smirked. Clearly she knew that he was faking the entire thing.

The assassin looked at him amusedly, before being ask by Bruce to go try. “Oh. No. That is not a question I need to answer,” she said, taking a sip out of her beer. Pan chuckled slightly. He liked this woman.

As Tony started to ramble up different excuses as to why none of them could lift the hammer, Thor eventually got up and cut him off. “Yes, well, I have a simpler conclusion,” he said before grabbing his hammer and flipping it in his hand and grinning crudely, “You’re all not worthy.”

A bunch of remarks was heard among the group at his comment. Pan grinned slightly but it faded when he saw a slight glimmer of something shiny off in the distance. What was that?

He wouldn’t have to wait for his answer for long. A loud, high pitched noise went through the air and the boy gritted his teeth, clamping his hands to his ears. It bothered him a lot more than the rest of them because his hearing was much more sensitive than the rest of them.

“Wwwwoooooorrr-tthhhhyyyyyy.......”

Pan furrowed his eyebrows at he awful grunt that almost sounded human. Almost. Where was that coming from?

“How could you be worthy?” The voice continued, grinding metal noises becoming louder with every step that—thing took. “You’re all Killers.” The immortal boy arched his eyebrow at that. Killers? Him, yeah sure, but these guys? He thought they were all heroes; didn’t heroes have a no-killing rule or some shit? Then again, two of these people were assassins and there was still much he didn’t know about these people; there was still much they did not know about him.

His eyebrows rose in shock as some weird machine looking thing practically limped towards them. It’s eyes, or what Pan presumed what was supposed to be the thing’s eyes, were glowing and most of it was crumbling and destroyed and its face—whatever was left of it at least—was absolutely ghastly. How this thing was functioning, Pan had no idea.

He looked around with a cocked eyebrow at these people’s serious faces. Seriously, was no one the slightest bit fazed that a large piece of decimated metal was talking to them?

Wow this world was weird.

“Stark,” Steve spoke up, not even glancing at the inventor. “JARVIS,” Tony said, asking his weird virtual system to answer the question they all had:

What the fuck was going on?

But the thing didn’t reply, which Tony seemed confused about. The metal thing didn’t seem to mind much though. In fact it kept on speaking. “I’m sorry, I was asleep....” it said as if someone asked, then paused. “Or..... I was a- a dream?” It said with consideration. Pan looked at it weirdly. What the bloody hell was that supposed to mean?

Meanwhile Tony was muttering something and tapping on this small metal device that everyone in this world seemed to have. Pan had learned that it was generally used for chatting, which a person could achieve through either sending messages through one phone to another or bringing it up to their ear to talk into something called a speaker, whatever that was. Pan himself had found the tiny device fascinating, as well as its numerous little boxes that you could touch on the screen called applications, or apps. They were very odd and Pan had taken a while to figure out the use of them. He still didn't know how the screen responded to a person's touch whilst being two dimensional. The entire concept was very confusing.

Then again he also did not understand why or how this thing in front of him was functioning and talking. He had a feeling a lot of his questions would go unanswered for a while.

“There was this terrible noise....” the robotic voice pulled Pan back into reality and he quirked a confused eyebrow. This thing was still talking? “I was tangled in.... in....” the thing looked around at itself (or what was left of itself at least) “strings.....” it murmured in a very vile tone as if the mere thought disgusted it.

As if it were human.

Which was confusing to him, because weren’t robots supposed to not have emotions?

“I had to kill the other guy,” the robot said nonchalantly as if it were no big deal, “he was a good guy.” Steve rose his eyebrows in shock. “You killed someone?” He asked.

The thing almost shrugged. “Wouldn’t of been my first call,” it said almost regretfully. Again with the emotion. Pan furrowed his brows. Even the JARVIS thing seemed less human like than this thing. “But down in the real world we’re faced with ugly choices,” it said and Pan nearly snorted. Now this thing was just stating the obvious.

“Who sent you?” Tony asked warily.

A weird nose came out of the thing before talking again. “I see a suit of armour around the world,” it said, but this time the voice was different; it was Tony’s voice. 

Everyone immediately looked at the inventor who paled significantly. Clearly he figured out what was going on.

Bruce did too. “Ultron...” he said as if the name were an omen. Pan frowned. What the hell is an Ultron? He was definitely missing something here.

“In the flesh,” the ‘Ultron’ said, “or, no; not yet. Not this.... chrysalis...” it muttered almost resentfully. “But I’m ready. I’m on a mission.”

“What mission?” Nat asked, At that moment he noticed that everyone suddenly became very much alert and the woman in the red dress even cocked her gun.

Deciding this was about to get serious, he outwardly relaxed but inwardly prepared himself for the fight that was sure to come.

And it did.

Ultron cocked his head slightly. “Peace in our time.” He said simply. Almost immediately after did similar robot things come flying through the glass walls. The rest of the group immediately went into attack mode and Pan watched with slight amusement as the group tried to fend off he machines. There was something regaling about seeing a fight in the making. He never really knew what.

His eye was drawn over to a robot that was now targeting the Asian nurse he saw before, who was hiding behind one of the chairs. It raised its hand, seemingly to fire, but at the same moment, Ultron had taken a look in its direction and suddenly the thing stood down. Pan raised his eyebrows in realization. That Ultron thing was controlling the other ones. How he had no clue. But it was.

One came flying at him and he smirked slightly, ready to blast the thing to kingdom come, when he remembered that his powers weren’t working well at the moment. So, he resorted to sending his fist through the thing and ripping its wires out; a little more flashy than he would have liked, but thankfully no one seemed to notice. 

Finally Clint tossed Steve his shield and the man sent it flying through the last robot. “That was dramatic,” Ultron said, much to Pan’s surprise. This thing didn’t get destroyed in the fight? Honestly he was so tired of it talking he might as well just destroy it himself.

Pan took a step forwards, only to be stopped by Steve, who held his arm out. He furrowed his eyebrows, giving the man a confused look, but the Captain’s eyes were set on Ultron. He must actually be interested in what the thing had to say.

Why, he couldn’t tell you at all. Pan himself had already tuned it out a long while ago.

The machine’s babbling continued and Pan tried to listen, he really did; but it just kept droning on, and on.... he sighed and rolled his eyes, waiting for the thing to stop talking, when something it said actually piqued his interest.

“There’s only one path to peace...” the robot drawled mysteriously, before tilting its head a little. “....The Avengers’ extinction.”

Pan quirked an eyebrow. Extinction? Just what in the hell was this robot planning?!

Thor finally seemed to have enough of the robot’s incessant chattering as he hurled his hammer towards the thing, smashing it into pieces—and although everyone was now breathing heavily, looking at one another with concern on their faces, Pan couldn’t help but feel bemused. Finally, someone decided to shut it up.

Still, he was confused by Ultron’s departing sentence. Why would it think that the Avengers’ extinction would lead to peace?

“Your arm,” Steve said suddenly, and Pan looked up to see the man looking at him with concern. What was he talking about? His arm? What about it?

Pan saw the mans gaze shift to his arm, so he lifted it up to his face to inspect it. It was completely bloodied up, with bits and pieces of metal stuck in his flesh. Loud gasps ensued soon after and Pan raised his eyebrows.

Oh. So that’s what he meant.

The Asian lady ran towards him. “Let me see,” she said, reaching for his arm, but Pan moved it away from her reach. “No need,” he dismissed her and started to pull out the pieces of metal himself. The others winced at him and he looked up with an arched eyebrow. “What? It’s gonna heal anyways,” he said, shrugging simply, and continuing to pull out a rather stubborn chunk of metal with his teeth.

The doctor looked puzzled and it was only then when Pan noticed the others’ expressions. Oh shit. He forgot—not all of them know about him.

He considered this for a moment before shrugging and yanking out the last piece of metal in his arm. Oh well—not his problem.

“We need to figure out a way.... to shut him down...” Bruce huffed, still slightly out of breath. Wait, what?

“Hold on,” Pan said, and everyone turned to see his incredibly confused expression. “You mean to tell me this ‘Ultron’ is not dead yet?” He asked, looking at them with bewildered eyes. He saw Thor’s hammer smash that thing to smithereens—what in the hell do they mean it’s not dead yet?!

The Avengers glanced at one another. A collective sigh was heard in the room. Looks like they were due for another explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep so that's the end of that. I'll try and update more frequently. Keyword there, TRY. I've been just a little busy, heh heh. Anyways, until next time.


	6. The Game Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang discusses how to stop Ultron's vile plans. Fortunately, Pan, as usual, is ten steps ahead...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back sorry for the long wait. I've received a few very loving comments on this book that actually motivated me to finish the chapter I've been working on for like three months now. I think it's long, but that just be my imagination, idk. Hope y'all enjoy.

“I still don’t understand.”

Tony groaned in frustration. “That’s it. I’m done,” he said, throwing his hands up into the air in defeat. 

The group had now assembled in the lab. Most were still recovering from the fight they had just had, Thor was nowhere to be seen, and Bruce was currently typing furiously on something called a computer.

Pan paid Tony no mind as he still pondered the whole ideology of the “internet” in his mind. To be honest it was a hard concept to grasp. According to Tony, anyone who owned a technological device was able to access internet. He had explained that it is a place where people could find information and use for their own personal entertainment, also allowing people to—what was the word—‘text’ and make ‘phone calls.’ 

He basically summarized it as a huge virtual library that had the capabilities to access any information on anyone or anything, even though it was much more complex than that. He said because Ultron was an artificially made through the use of technology, the robot could travel through the internet and control stuff at will; which was why Bruce was working so vigorously. If the metal man could get any information it’s heart desired, he was trying to figure out what it had gotten it’s cybernetic hands on.

Which was apparently everything, according to the disappointing information Bruce relayed on the rest of the team.

“All our work is gone,” he said, “Ultron cleared out, used the internet as an escape hatch.” Pan frowned. If this ‘Ultron’ could travel through the internet, which he had been told is nearly unstoppable, how were they supposed to kill it? (Apparently you cannot kill the internet; Pan has asked—you can hypothetically “kill” it in different places but not everywhere—Tony had stopped the explanation as it only succeeded in confusing him more)

“Ultron,” Steve mused questioningly, but no one else seemed to notice this except for Pan. 

“He’s been in everything. Files, surveillance. Probably knows more about us than we know about each other,” Nat said, a comment to which no one disagreed to. Pan nearly snorted. Teamwork at its finest. This was giving him a serious sense of deja vu...

Rhodes spoke up. “He’s in your files; he’s in everything. What if he decides to access something a little more exciting?” 

The female agent known as Hill looked up at him with a concerned face. “Nuclear codes,” she said as if it were a bad omen.

“Nuclear codes,” Rhodes agreed, nodding his head.

“What are those?” Pan spoke up and everyone looked at him, seemingly forgetting that he was in the room. He’d probably be offended by that if he wasn’t so confused right now.

“Who is this kid again?” Hill asked, jerking her thumb over to gesture towards him. The Avengers sighed. “It’s—a long story,” Bruce said kind of lamely. The woman furrowed her eyebrows and snorted lightly. “It always is with you people,” she muttered, but nonetheless decided not to question it further.

“Well?” He asked, slightly annoyed about being dismissed. Everyone had that familiar uncomfortable look on their faces that seemed to pop up whenever he asked a question. He was getting a little tired of it to be honest. He really didn’t like being the one not knowing things.

Tony’s response to his question was to toss him a square looking device, which Pan caught with ease. He looked down at—what did they call it.... the ‘screen?’—and saw a bunch of words on it. The title of the page was called “Nuclear Energy: Explanation for Dummies.”

Really?

Pan looked up and arched an eyebrow at the inventor, but Tony only pointed back to the square device in his hands. “Read,” he instructed, before going back to doing whatever the hell he was doing before. Pan rolled his eyes but began to read begrudgingly. He really was tired of not knowing anything about his surroundings. 

“Look, we need to make some calls, assuming we still can,” Rhodes said as Pan continued to scroll through the internet note semi-mindlessly, ignoring the vast amount of scientific words that popped up throughout the text, only picking out the bits and pieces he deemed necessary. “Nukes?” Nat piped up, looking at everyone. “He said he wanted us dead.”

“He didn’t say dead,” Steve spoke up, causing everyone to look at him. “He said extinct.”

Pan frowned as he read the text in front of him. He’d gotten the gist of what Nuclear energy was supposed to be and it seemed almost like magic, and not this “science” concept that people have made; mostly because of it’s incredibly destructive capabilities, which made him question why on earth some people used the same stuff that they put in bombs to incinerate things to power their houses. He rolled his eyes, tossing the tablet thing back on the table. Humans are stupid.

Well, at least he knew what nuclear codes were; and if this internet-travelling robot got its virtual hands on them, then this extinction plan was basically set in stone.

“He also said he killed somebody,” Clint said.

“But there wasn’t anyone else in the building,” Hill said, confused.

“Yes there was.” Everyone put their attention on Tony, who tapped one of his devices on clear air. Almost instantly, a fluttering, wrecked looking orange image thing showed up in front of him. Pan couldn’t help but scoff. By now, he wasn’t even surprised anymore.

Everyone else seemed to recognize the orange thing though because they all had shocked expressions on their faces. “This is insane,” Bruce breathed incredulously, looking at the messed up image with a horrified expression. 

“JARVIS was the first line of defence. He would’ve shut Ultron down, it makes sense,” Tony explained. Pan rose his eyebrows, quickly putting two and two together. This thing must’ve been the 3D embodiment of Stark’s creepy virtual assistant, and he blue bits sticking out of it must’ve been from Ultron. He couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. So the weird internet programs could kill each other, but real people couldn’t?

Bruce only shook his head. “No, Ultron could’ve assimilated JARVIS. This isn’t strategy, this is.....” He looked even more disturbed now. “This is rage.”

Pan had to disagree though. He was very knowledgeable when it came to why people acted the way they do—even though they were talking about robot minds here, one of them was a superior artificial intelligence; it felt actual emotion, or at least what it understood to be emotion from what it’s searched up. If Pan knew anything about fights and murders—and he did—he knew that a person, cybernetic or not, would never completely lash out and kill so gruesomely unless they viewed that person as a threat. Ultron wasn’t angry at JARVIS; he was intimidated.

Thor suddenly came storming into the room, decked out in the attire that he had been wearing when Pan first met him, making the youth slightly jealous. How come the Norse god got to change and not him? He was sick of these stuffy clothes.

His jealousy quickly faded into amusement when he saw the bulky man lift Tony up by his throat. Pan had to actually bite his cheek in order not to laugh, but not only because of the sight of someone being physically manhandled. Some crazy robot with a human mind was after to kill them and they were trying to kill each other? 

“Woah, woah, woah, it’s going around,” Clint commented and everyone simply watched as Tony struggled slightly in the god’s grip. “C’mon, use you words buddy,” he said, his voice slightly strained. Pan had to admire his ability to still act like an asshole even in the face of death.

“I have more than enough words to explain you, Stark,” Thor said menacingly, but Steve spoke up. “Thor!” He cried, “The Legionnaire.”

Pan had no idea as to what that was supposed to mean, but it made Thor release Tony anyways. He went on to explain how the Virtual nuisance had stolen the sceptre when it escaped. “Now we have to retrieve it; again,” he said, looking at Tony with anger, who all but completely ignored him.

“The genie’s our of that bottle. Clear and present is Ultron,” Nat said. 

“I don’t understand,” the doctor Helen Cho spoke up and Pan rose his eyebrows in shock. He had completely forgotten that she was still there. “You built his program; why is it trying to kill us?” She asked warily.

And that’s when Tony started to laugh.

Various looks were directed towards he man, all varying from silent questioning, anger, confusion, and incredibility. Pan noticed Bruce subtly shaking his head no to the inventor and snorted. 

“You think this is funny?” Thor asked, unimpressed, and that’s when Pan started to tune them out again. He could feel the tension in the room and already knew there was going to be something stupid they were going to talk about. He instead decided to take this time to try and adjust his powers to this new world. After all, he’d probably have to if he was gong to be stuck here helping fight a psychotic metal man.

Plus he was tired of wearing these clothes; he wanted to change back into his comfortable Neverland greens. 

Backing away slowly to not draw too much attention to himself (which was fairly easy considering all eyes were on Tony), Pan blinked out of sight, trying to picture himself in the room he had changed in earlier. 

He instead found himself outside, on the top of the damned building. 

Pan scowled. “Well,” he said sardonically, “at least I actually teleported his time.” He admitted that it could’ve been worse. He could have accidentally set something flying back with his magic instead.

Sighing to himself, he tried again. This time he found himself in some sort of training centre; an interesting place for him to take his frustrations out, but not what he was looking for. He transported again; now he was just in the living room.

Pan growled in frustration. “You’ve got to be kidding me!” He snapped, and suddenly the couch went flying. Pan managed to stop it with his telekinesis before it made its way out through the window, and carefully put it back where it was before, willing himself to calm down. He couldn’t have his anger screwing with his magic; otherwise stuff like—that, would happen.

Grumbling to himself, Pan just sought to walk the rest of the way to the room. It was better than having another accident happen; and these clothes were starting to really irritate him.

Until they weren’t.

Pan stopped walking, suddenly feeling oddly comfortable in his previously suffocating clothes. He looked down and found himself back in his Green tunic, pants, and knee high boots. Huh. He must’ve accidentally used his magic to hangs his clothing through his desire to change.

He sighed wistfully. Good lord he needed to get ahold of his magic.

Pan nonchalantly snapped his fingers, luckily transporting him back into the office where the Avengers and company were still arguing. As expected, no one noticed his sudden appearance.

“A hostile alien army came charging through a hole in space. We're standing three hundred feet below it. We're the Avengers. We can bust arms dealers all the live long day, but, that up there? That's...that's the end game. How were you guys planning on beating that?” Tony spoke, bewildering Pan. What in the hell were they talking about?

Steve seemed to know though. “Together”, he said. Tony stepped towards him. “We’ll lose,” he said factually. Yeah well if they keep acting like morons, they will.

It didn’t seem to deter the Captain though. Steve simply slightly nodded his head. “Then we’ll do that together too,” he said and Pan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at how corny the man sounded. Spoken like a true leader....

It was truly sentimental: disgusting.

“Are you all done?” He asked and everyone whipped their heads towards him, confusion written on their faces. “....When did you change your clothes?” Clint asked, pointing to his new attire. Pan looked at them with disdain. Pathetic.

“If you all are planning on beating something that has access to anything it could ever need to do anything it desires, you might want to start with being more attentive,” he said factually.

Everyone just stared at him and rolled his eyes again. Seriously how many times was he going to roll his eyes with these people? Until they got stuck?

Pan just shook his head and walked out the door. Maybe it was a good thing that Rumple hadn’t contacted him yet. These people seriously needed all the help they could get.

.

.

Upon Steve’s request, the team gathered in a new room, though it still had computers which was completely unsurprising to Pan. You could find some kind of modern technological invention everywhere you turned in this place.

“What’s this?” Tony asks as Steve somehow makes the image on his little tablet go up into the air for everyone to see. It still never failed to amaze him. He still couldn’t believe that what he was seeing wasn’t actually magic.

“A message. Ultron killed Strucker,” Steve explained. Strucker. Pan recognized hat name. He had been brought up when he was being interrogated by the Avengers. Apparently the war he had quite literally fallen into back in Sokovia was between them and this man.

“And he did a Banksy at the crime scene, just for us,” Tony remarked. Everyone looked at the dead man in the image, the word PEACE written in blood on the wall he was slumped against. Flashy.

Still, this intrigued Pan. Ultron was clearly very intelligent; with all of the knowledge of the world at his hands, he could’ve killed he man and covered up the tracks easily. However, he decided to leave a message, and one that he had already yammered on about to them before.

Natasha seemed to be thinking the same way. “This is a smokescreen,” she said observantly. “Why send a message when you’ve just given a speech?”

“Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss,” Steve concluded, which caught Pan’s interest immediately. Piquing it even more, Nat went to check something on the computer and sighed. “Yep; everything we had on Strucker has been erased,” she said.

“Not everything,” Tony said, and everyone caught on immediately, people soon disappearing and reappearing with different physical files from boxes; most likely everything they had on Strucker.

“Known associates. Well, Strucker has a lot of friends,” Steve commented as he flipped through some paperwork.

“Well, these people are all horrible,” Bruce said, looking more and more mortified with ever page he turned. Pan too had skimmed over some of the files and he found himself slightly disturbed as well. True, he also murdered many, but not for fun. These guys were pretty ruthless.

“Wait I know that guy,” Tony spoke up, pointing at a picture of a rather burly and brusque looking man with a fiendish grin on his face. Pan wrinkled his nose at the sight. How attractive. He looked just as crazy as he probably was. “From back in the day. He operates off African coast black market arms.”

From the chiding look that Steve was now directing towards Tony, and the defensive one on the latter’s face, Pan surmised that the info the inventor was talking about was bad.

“There are conventions, okay? You meet people, I didn’t sell him anything,” Tony protested. Steve just sighed. By now, everyone was gathering around them and Pan noticed the name at the top of the file: Ulysses Klaue. Charming name for a charming person.

“He was talking about something new, a ‘game changer’,” Tony said with little jazz hand gestures. “It was all very “Ahab”.”

Pan perked his head up at the word ‘game’; a natural impulse. Suddenly he was more intrigued about this poor excuse of a man.

Thor did too. He was starting at what seemed to be a brand on the man’s neck. “This,” he said, pointing to it. 

Tony looked at him weirdly. “Uh, it’s a tattoo,” he responded and Pan rolled his eyes. He didn’t even know what a tattoo was, nonetheless what it was made of, and he still knew that this was clearly a brand. Did these people know nothing? “I don’t think he had it—“

“No,” Thor cut him off, pointing to the man’s highly decorated arms. “Those are tattoos. This—“ he pointed to back to the mark on his neck, “—this is a brand.” Banner immediately searches the brand up on the computer. Pan is still amazed at how that worked. So you could just write your question on a skinny little bar and the screen will give you pages of information in seconds? It was all very surreal.

“Oh yeah, it’s a word in African dialect meaning ‘thief’—in a much friendly way,” Bruce explained, looking back at the team. Pan frowned. He himself was familiar with many forms of African dialect (all dialect in general, actually), But he had never seen dialect like this before.

“What dialect?” Steve asked. Pan watched with slight amusement at the doctor struggled to pronounce he word before finally settling with, “Wakanda.” Well no wonder he wasn’t familiar with the dialect; there was no ‘Wakanda’ in Pan’s universe.

A few of the Avengers must’ve been though because they started to stiffen, specifically Tony and Steve. “If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods...” Tony trailed off, wary to say the rest. “I thought your father said he got the last of it?” Steve questioned Tony with confusion and a little distrust. Pan scrunched his eyebrows. What was so crucial about this Wakanda place? 

Banner seemed to share his thoughts. “I don’t follow, what comes out of Wakanda?” He asked the two men, who exchanged knowing glances. Finally Tony spoke up. “Vibranium,” he said, looking at Steve, who stared back. “The strongest metal on earth.” Pan rose his eyebrows. Well no wonder the Captain only used a shield in combat.

But this just intrigued Pan more. Ultron erased all the files they had on their computers and/or the internet on this man; why wouldn’t he control one of the other robots to destroy the physical files too? 

Then it struck him; maybe the robot wanted them to find him. The message left with Strucker’s body; killing him to hide something from the rest; destroying all files except the physical copies regarding information on this man; he was making it nearly impossible to find out his plans, but not entirely. He was leaving hints: Klaue was his hint.

Pan considered every single fundamental element that was present in this situation and felt his lips curl up into a smirk. Of course.

It was a game.

“Where is this guy now?” Steve asked and Pan rolled his eyes. “Easy now, Captain,” he said, hopping off he desk he was sitting on. “If you’re going to play the game, you need to know your players.” 

Everyone gave him confused looks. “What game?” Asked Tony, before pausing and then adding, “What players?!” Pan sighed. Not only did they have not a singular clue that the psycho machine was toying with them, they were allowing it to lure them into its trap too.

“I honestly question how you people get things done around here,” he said, and, to his benefit, nobody looked too offended. Probably because the boy wasn’t wrong whatsoever. 

“Think about it: Ultron wants to kill everyone; he’s just one robot. All-knowing or not, he can’t do it by himself,” he said factually, “he’ll be getting help; when we go to wherever the hell I know you guys are planning on going, we we can’t just try and find out his plans, or his involvement with the mental cases in the picture,” he said, pointing to Klaue, “we need to know who we’re up against; and what we’ll be up against.”

Everyone looked at him blankly. “Yes, we’re aware of that,” Steve said slowly, talking to him like a little kid again. “We’ve done this kind of thing before, Pan.” The boy in question groaned. They were completely missing the point.

“Yeah kid, I know in your little fairytale story, you like to run around and play games, but this is the real world,” Tony told him and Pan rolled his eyes. Again, missing the point. “He’s right,” Clint said. “Not everything’s a game—“

“Oh but it is,” Pan said, cutting the man off. “Apparently this robot has the knowledge of—well everything. Don’t you think he would’ve destroyed the physical files as well if he didn’t want to give you a lead?” He asked and finally, realization dawned on their faces. Pan shook his head. Man, these guys were slow.

“He has a point. Ultron has access to the knowledge of every information site in existence,” Bruce said, looking at all of them. “He would’ve known not to leave and trails.” Pan nodded and smirked triumphantly. Finally, someone was getting it.

“But that’s doesn’t make any sense. Why would Ultron leave us hints if he wants to destroy everybody?” Nat asked with furrowed eyes. A smirk rose onto his face. “And that, lady and gents, is the purpose of the game,” he said, smirking widely, “Ultron wants you all to know that even with the help of clues and hints, you still won’t be able to beat him.”

The group seemed to consider this. “But he still killed Strucker,” Steve piped up. “If his goal is to lure us in, why kill him?” Pan nearly scoffed. What a dumb question. “Obviously the information Strucker either had or knew would’ve thrown the whole game away,” he said, not missing a beat, before smiling, “That’s not fun.”

Everyone looked at him with considerable faces. The boy was right; It really was a game. A complex one too. This situation just got a whole lot more complicated.

“But he’s not going to win; you have me now,” he said, walking around the desk idly. “Fortunately for you all, I’m a game master,” he boasted, smiling reassuringly (though it probably turned out to look like a smug smirk). Tony arched an eyebrow at him. “Meaning...?” He asked. Pan just arched an eyebrow in return, the corner of his lips curling upwards in his infamous smirk. “I NEVER lose the game,” he said adamantly.

Clint quirked his eyebrows at him. “Didn’t you lose the game you played in your world, which is why you’re here in the first place?” He questioned, all while taking one big step back. He knew this kid was not one to anger, but god, he could never control his smart mouth.

However, Pan was detected by this. In fact, he quirked his head to the side, adapting a thoughtful expression. “Did I really?” He asked rhetorically, “I mean, I did get his heart, I did become immortal, and I did save the island,” he listed, “Of course there were a few setbacks but I still survived.” He shrugged and grinned at the archer. “Seems like a win to me.”

Clint blinked at him once before shrugging as well. “Fair enough,” he said.

This all still seemed ridiculous to Tony but in the end, he threw his arms up in the air. “Fine,” he said, “the tin man wants to play a game, he’ll get one.” Pan grinned. 

This was going to be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> K so Imma try and update asap I also have like five different fan fiction ideas going on in my head rn, not including the ones I've already published and still need to update (there's like, three of them, but still). I will do my best to update soon.


	7. Why So Difficult

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Storybrooke, Rumplestiltskin announced the completion of the potion. Meanwhile, Pan accompanied the Avengers on their journey to Klaue’s base to stop Ultron and whatever he plans to do with the vibranium; both reflect on unpleasant memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, can I just say that I love and appreciate you all and words cannot explain how grateful I am for you people? Seriously, the interest in this fanfic has been way larger than I would have ever expected. You guys and your support is just so heartwarming and hank you so much for the lovely compliments :) I hope you enjoy this chapter!

_Rumple was currently in the forests of Neverland, his hands held out in front of him as he closed his eyes, trying to use his foresight to to at least gain somewhat of an upper-hand in this bloody island. After all, this was Pan they were dealing with; you never knew when he’d—_

_“Trying to see the future?”  _

_Case in point._

_Rumple tried his best to suppress his startled reaction, but he knew that Pan saw it anyways, as an amused smirk was plastered on the boy’s impish face. He never did completely grow out of his angelic looks—  _

_Rumple shook his head slightly. No; now was not the time for reminiscing._

_Pan arched an eyebrow at him, still looking regaled. “You know, you can’t see the future in a place were time stands still,” he told him in such a condescending tone that it nearly made Rumple throw a curse at him; nearly.  _

_Instead he settled for glaring at him instead. “I may not be able to tell the future, but I can still create one of my own,” he said menacingly. Pan just blinked at him before laughing, as if he found his words humorous—which, apparently, he did.  _

_“Was that a threat?” he asked with a chuckle. Then he gestured to the ground, Rumple noticing the food laying above the firewood in a pan (go figure) that he had been oblivious to until now. “And here I made you your favourite breakfast.” Rumple looked at the food, before looking up at him with an arched eyebrow. What was Pan getting at?_

_ But the teen just gave him an inculpable smile, one that which was clearly fake, and cocked his head and Rumple’s suspicious look, feigning confusion. “C’mon, you know; eggs in a basket,” he said gesturing to the food and then to him. “Thought you could use it. You seem a little down in the dumps.” His smirk widened._

_“I’m fine,” Rumple retorted, eyes watching Pan’s every move as he walked back and forth. The teen scoffed. “Are you sure?” He asked, amusement clear on his face. Rumple glared at him as the boy continued to antagonize him. “You lost your son, Neal—“ he paused in consideration “—again,” he added, smiling wickedly when Rumple flinched. Pan always did know exactly where to tug his heartstrings in order to get the reaction he wanted. “And Henry’s unattainable because, well," he chuckled slightly, "you'd have to go through me. And we both know you can't," he said factually.  _

_When Rumple still did nothing, Pan rolled his eyes in a playful manner, reaching down to grab one. “You still like the yolk runny, don’t you?” he asked, flicking his eyes up to him for a moment before straightening himself. He then extended his arm, offering Rumple the egg, but the man stepped back, his guard up and ready; he knew Pan good and well. He wasn’t about to take any chances._

_Pan just looked at him with slight disbelief and amusement before scoffing lightly. “Well if you won’t eat, then I will,” he said plainly with a shrug, taking a bite out of the egg. Rumple just stared at him with as much confusion as caution; so a heck of a lot of confusion. He seriously had no idea what Pan’s plan was here._

_And that was never good. All it meant was that he had to be extra alert now._

_“What do you want?” he asked more gruffly than intimidatingly, which annoyed him a bit. Pan raised a hand, indicating that he was sill chewing and Rumple sighed, rolling his eyes. The boy always was a slow eater. “Savour the flavour” he would always say as justification for his actions. Then he would find himself in a fit of giggles at the rhyme._

_Rumple forcibly pushed those memories away. This wasn’t Malcolm he was dealing with; it was Pan._

_After swallowing his mouthful Pan tilted his head to the side in consideration, shrugging lightly. “I’m just trying to point out the silver lining in your rather dull, bleak life,” he said before taking another bite. Rumple’s stare hardened. “What, that by killing you all our problems will be solved?” he suggested in an acerbic tone, although he had to put a lot more force into getting the words out than he would’ve liked.  _

_Remember: Pan, not Malcolm._

_The boy in question just laughed at him, before a deadly serious expression came across his face. The change in mood, not to mention the atmosphere, was so quick and intense, it sent shivers up Rumple’s spine. He tried his best not to show it.  _

_“We both know that’s not going to happen,” he said in a profane tone, though his eyes maintained their deathly disposition. “Face it, Rumple: you can’t kill me—you don’t have the physical nor willpower to do so—and even if you did, you still wouldn’t be able to do it.” He shrugged again, continuing to eat his snack. After swallowing his mouthful, he looked back up to Rumple and smiled. “To make a long story short, you don’t want to deal with me, and I don’t want to deal with you. So I’m generously letting you go.” Rumple furrowed his eyebrows at him. Letting him go? What was Pan going on about?_

_“What?” He asked brusquely, looking irritated when Pan rolled his eyes slightly at him. Stupid little brat._

_“You can go; leave the island,” he explained. Rumple glared. “And abandon my son? And Henry?” He shook his head, “I don’t think so.”_

_Pan furrowed his eyebrows at him. “Why not, you’ve done it before, haven’t you?” He asked nonchalantly, “Isn’t running away from people what you’re good at anyways?” His words struck a nerve that Rumple was trying his best to avoid being hit; and although Pan sounded like he didn’t care, he could hear the darkness and resentment in his tone. He took a deep breath, pushing away the guilt rising up in him._

_Pan, not Malcolm; Pan, not Malcolm...._

_Although he knew his expression had wavered slightly, Rumple still gave the boy an adamant look. He wasn’t going to let his alluding words get to him; no matter how true they were.  _

_Seeing his expression, Pan sighed, looking almost pityingly at him. “Look,” he started in such a condescending tone, and in an instant, anger was firing up inside of him, trying to consume his previous guilt in its raging flames. He gladly welcomed it. Pan: not Malcolm._

_“Even if you do manage to save them, which you won’t,” he gave him a pointed look and his glare deepened, “what’s the point? They’ll never forgive you for all the horrible things you’ve done.” The overwhelming amount of venomous abhorrence that was well woven throughout every enunciation of his words made Rumple’s stomach churn. He knew Pan was right; and Pan knew that he knew he was right; but he wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of allowing it to get to him.  _

_Instead, he swallowed down his doubt and looked him straight in the eye. “You don’t know that,” he said, making his voice as confident as possible—but confidence can only come to a certain level when it comes to even being near Pan._

_The teen quirked his ever infamous eyebrow and stepped closer to Rumple, upping the man’s feeling of vulnerability as he did so. He looked him dead in the eye. “Has your brother forgiven you?” He asked him in a low, but pestilent tone._

_The blow hit him hard in the gut. It felt as if someone had taken his dagger and repeatedly impaled him with it; although even that was an understatement to the amount of pain Rumple was feeling right now. The pain of guilt, more deadly, more ferocious than any physical infliction could ever do to him. Forget swords or knives; emotions were he true weapons._

_And Pan knew exactly how to use your own against yourself._

_The immortal teen leaned back and smiled smugly. “You see my point,” he said, smirking in a victorious manner; but even Rumple could see that the vigour wasn’t in it. His eyes held no emotion at all. “Back to that silver lining. You have a nice girl waiting for you back at home, don’t you? Belle, isn’t it?” Rumple winced at the sound of her name. He had no idea how Pan knew of Belle; but he was more than glad that she wasn’t here. He didn’t want Pan anywhere near her._

_Pan gave him another one of those somber, pitiful looks. “Cut the bullshit, and just go back to her, start a new life.” The “like you always have” was left unsaid but the words somehow reached to squeeze Rumple’s heart anyways._

_Pan cocked his head in a thoughtful manner. “She looks fertile, maybe a new child?” He suggested, and was rewarded with an unamused look. Rumple closed his eyes, trying to gather his patience. Of course Peter would say something like that._

_The teen’s expression turned repugnant within a blink of his eye. “We both know that’s the only option for you; assuming you want to live,” he said, shrugging as if the ultimatum was simple. But both Pan and Rumple knew better. Pan didn’t just want him away because of the situation with Henry: in fact, Henry had almost nothing to do with the boy’s hostility towards the Dark One._

_Pan stepped closer to him, their faces inches away from each other now. “I’d choose wisely,” he whispered sagely, “because if you get in my way, I won’t just kill you.” The boy’s eyes flickered up, looking into Rumple’s with a ruthless glower. “I’ll kill every single being that you’re even remotely close to,” his snarl grew more vile, “and I’ll make you watch each one.”_

_Rumple gulped as the boy glared at him, taking his words in very cautiously. He knew Pan wasn’t just threatening him. No, this was no warning; it was a malevolent promise._

_Almost immediately did the dark look fade away from Pan’s face as the boy back up and gave him a small smirk. Clearly he knew that his message had gotten across quite well._

_He inclined his head to the food on the pan. “Enjoy the eggs,” he said mockingly, before walking away from him. Once he was out of sight, Rumple let out the huge breath he was holding in, his palms shaking slightly. He didn’t even need to consider the information Pan gave him; he already knew the prices._

_If he stayed, then Pan’s personal vendetta against him would relinquish its raging fury onto him; he would put him through hell—and would drag everyone he loved along with him through his suffering._

_But he couldn’t just let Pan get away with his schemes; and he wanted so badly to regain the trust from his son—and, admittedly, to make amends with Pan himself too, which was basically a fantasy at this point. Pan hated him with a burning passion; he’d made that abundantly clear many times_

_Even though he knew it was practically impossible, Rumple had hoped, just a tiny bit, that he could save Malcolm along the way._

_But he couldn’t; Malcolm had become Pan a long time ago, and was not planning on changing back any time soon._

_Still, every time he looked into those shining green eyes—  _

_Rumple sigh, his breath trembling, as he looked up to the sky to fight back the tears threatening to emerge from eyes._

_It wasn’t supposed to be his difficult._

~~~

“Rumple!”

The man blinked hard, seeing faces all around him giving him looks varying from confusion to concern.

“Are you alright?” Belle asked with worry, linking her arm through his. Shaking his head slightly, Rumple gave her a reassuring smile. “Yes, I’m fine,” he said, but Bae didn’t look so convinced. “Are you sure? You were staring at the wall for a solid two minutes, like you were in a trance,” he informed him and Rumple freely his heart stiffen.

Was he really that caught up in his thoughts? In thinking about Pan...?

He shook his head again. No, they didn’t have time for this. He plastered on a fake smile and patted Bae’s shoulder comfortingly. “It’s okay Bae. I’m okay, really,” he assured him, praying that he wouldn’t be questioned. His son still looked wary, but ultimately let it go. He breathed out a sigh of relief, and his muscle loosened ever so slightly.

“Great, so why’d you’d call us over here other than to watch you in a state of sleep paralysis?” Regina asked snappily, pointedly ignoring the perturbed looks she was getting. “Are you finally done the spell?”

Rumple glared at her slightly, not liking how she used the word ‘finally’—it had only been a few days—but nodded anyways. “Yes. The spell is complete,” he said, holding the vial up. It wouldn’t tell them exactly where he was; but it would at least let them see him.

He fought down the churning feeling in his stomach at the thought of seeing Malcolm again—no wait: not Malcolm. 

Pan, not Malcolm.

* * *

“Now the only problem is finding out where Klaue’s sanction is,” Tony said. Steve frowned. “I thought you knew where it was,” he asked and Tony rolled his eyes. “Yes, I did, but eventually so did everyone else. Klaue’s always on the move. He could be anywhere around this ‘Wakanda’ place,” he explained. 

Pan walked over to him. “Do you have a map?” He asked him. Tony gave him a confused look. “Pardon?” He asked, with slight disbelief and Pan sighed. “Do you have a map of Africa?” He asked a bit slower this time; only because that seemed to be the pace of which these people’s brains’ functioned. 

Tony blinked at him. “Do you have any idea how large Africa is?” He asked him in a patronizing tone that made Pan glare at him. Once again, this so-called “genius” was completely missing the point.  

“Just give me a map of the damned place,” he snarled. He was losing his patience. 

Tony seemed to notice that, and thankfully did what he was told, pulling up some kind of virtual map out of the air from the gods only knew where. Pan frowned a bit in confusion, but shrugged. Close enough. He’ll have to work with what he had.

Holding the picture of Klaue’s hideous face, Pan glanced at it for a split second before waving his hand over the map. The gang behind looked on with awe as a sparkling green like substance emitted from his finger tips. Pan’s eyes glowed green momentarily, before promptly zooming the map into a specific place in a town called blank. Blinking, he turned back to he group, his eyes back to normal. “He’s there,” he said, pointing at the specified location on the map before walking away from it.

Everyone continued to look at the map with awed faces. “What the hell was that?” Tony asked, still staring at the map. Pan quirked an eyebrow. So they were okay with talking robots and information just popping up into plain sight from thin air, but they couldn’t grasp the idea of magic?

These people really _were_ weird .

“Locator spell,” he answered simply, shrugging his shoulders. It wasn’t really a big deal to him. After all, it was one of the more simplistic spells of the vast amount he was familiar with. 

He thought these people would be a little bit more adept to magic considering they had a literal god on their team, but he guessed not. Either way, he didn’t really care much. They got the information they needed didn’t they?

Except the team was still looking at the screen with their dumbstruck expressions (emphasis on the ‘dumb’, mind you). Pan rolled his eyes and scoffed at them. Seriously, it really wasn’t that big of a deal that they were making it. Jeez. 

“If you are all done gaping, could we maybe take one of those large flying devices you own to this place? Because although I love flying, I’d rather not take that long of a trip,” he commented. This finally snapped the gang out of their stupor. Tony blinked and shook his head. “Right. Yeah. Let’s get going,” he said, still surprised at how easy it was for them to track Klaue down. Like, waaaaay too easy. 

Maybe having this kid around was a good idea after all. 

Then he paused. “And it’s called a _ship_ ,” he corrected the kid, who scrunched up his nose. “In what world is _that_ a _ship_??” He asked, completely bewildered. Where he was from, unless you counted having the specific sail, ships usually floated on water, not in the air.

“Our world,” the inventor replied, not missing a beat, before putting on his ridiculous looking glasses and walking out of the room. When no one followed, he looked back and cocked his head. “Well? Are you all coming or not?” He asked, gesturing for them to walk through the door.

Pan rolled his eyes before blinking out of sight, presumedly teleporting to the ship bay. Bruce, who was standing beside him at the time, jumped in shock. He placed a had on his chest, breathing heavily. Then he looked at the team, the shaken look on his face still there. “I’m not getting used to that anytime soon.” He stated, trying to will his heartbeat to a normal pace once more.  

Steve gave him a sympathetic smile and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder. “I’m pretty sure none of us are buddy,” he said. The rest of the group nodded in agreement before following Tony out of the door, who was mumbling something about cheating with teleportation. 

Sure enough, Pan was at the ship bunker, god knows how he remembered where it was as he’d only been there once when first arriving to the building, but he was currently leaning against one of the ships, arms and legs crossed. “Took you all long enough,” he said, smirking wittingly at them. 

Tony gave him a deadpan look. “A little easier to get places when you can  _teleport_ ,” he told him, giving him a pointed look. Pan just shrugged, an inculpable smile on his face. “That just means my magic is getting used to this place. That means I’ll be using it much more often,” he said, his grin widening significantly. “Isn’t that great?”

Tony just looked at him with a plain expression before calmly walking into the ship.

He wasn’t calm. He was not calm AT ALL. 

Pan just snickered, following him into the ship while the others smiled with mild amusement.

Having Peter Pan as an avenger was going to be—interesting, to say the absolute least. 

. 

.

The base they had stopped to was somewhere in around the African coast. The place basically looked like a slave labour factory—and honestly, the fact that all the labourers were black wasn’t helping its case.

Pan stayed beside Tony and Steve as he heard the metal man argue with Klaue about something. Tony’s name came up several times, Then all of a sudden, Ultron just decided to up and chop his arm off. Just like that. Pan rose his eyebrows, and let out a soundless whistle as the robot began to apologize. Damn. Artificial intelligence or not, this thing really didn’t know how to make partnerships.

“Don’t compare me to Stark! Stark is, he’s a sickness!!” Ultron growled out, as if the name was a bad taste on his—well his non-existent or perhaps metallic tongue. Honestly Pan hoped this thing didn’t have some kind of tongue; or—other human like features. Ultron was freakily humanlike enough as it is. No need for upgrades in that division.

“Aw, Junior; you’re gonna break your old man’s heart.” Pan blinked and looked up to see that both the Captain and Tony had made their way over to the robot and his enhanced bodyguards, and rose his eyebrows in shock. Oh, okay, so they were going now. He had completely missed this cue; he was too busy trying not to imagine Ultron with a metallic tongue. 

Even as a robot, Ultron somehow managed to make a malevolent expression. “If I have to,” he murmured a reply. Flying up towards the two, Pan settled himself behind Steve, ignoring the intrigued looks of the people around him. Yeah yeah, he wasn’t one of the so-called “infamous avengers”, get over it: he honestly was just here for the game. 

Well that, and he was kinda stuck here. But semantics.

“We don’t have to break anything,” came the wise sounding words from the god beside him. Note: wise sounding; not wise words. At least not on this situation. Clearly peace was not a negotiable concept with the metal mental case. 

As if to prove his thoughts, the robot said, “clearly you’ve never made an omelet.” “He beat me by one second,” Tony muttered almost resentfully and Steve and Thor just gave him a look that told him that now was very much not the time for his stupid wise cracks.

Pan tuned the rest of their conversation out as the speedster from before decided to talk. His eyes shifted to the girl. She’s squinting at him. Before he could even try and recollect what Steve said her abilities were, he already felt her presence in his mind. It’s slight, but there. His lips curled up into an amused smile, which seemed to confuse her a little, but not deter her. He knew what she’s doing; she’s trying to find dirt on him. Pan knew all of her powers the second her conscience touched his mind. Along with telekinetic abilities, this girl had the ability to screw around with other people’s minds. She was trying to find things to use to make him destroy himself from the inside, and he was letting her. She could snoop around in his mind all she’d like; sure he’d been through a lot of shit, but there’s nothing in his mind that he hadn’t emotionally come to terms with. 

Emotion was weakness; that’s why Pan barely felt anymore.

That’s why he _said_ he  didn’t feel anymore.

“We know you’ve suffered.” Pan glanced over to where Steve was now looking at the twins with pity in his eye. He sighed idly. His stupid justice-over-vengeance ideology wasn’t going to work on them—at least not so soon.

“Uuughh!” The robot cried in disgust and Pan’s eyes flickered to wear the thing was floating. “Captain America. God's righteous man, pretending you could live without a war. I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but...” Pan couldn’t help it; he snorted at that, ignoring the unamused looks from Steve and Tony and the confused one from Thor. What? It wasn’t like the Robot didn’t have a point. He had been in this universe for barely a day, and he could already tell that the Captain had a nasty habit of being disgustingly saccharine.

Which also struck up a thought; what was time like in his world in comparison to this one? Would it be the same? Would it be faster? Geez. Pan tried not to worry about the fact that a day in this world could very well much be a year or even more in his own; God knows how much it would be in comparison to Neverland. 

But then he furrowed his eyebrows as another thought came to him—a more important one this time. What was the point of this trip again? He couldn’t remember; he was too busy drowning out Steve’s long speech that probably held all the details as to why they were there in the first place; yeah, not the brightest idea. But he couldn’t help it; the man’s voice was so boring....

Suddenly red laser like thing came out of Ultron fingers and the next thing Pan knew, an all out fight was happening around him.  

He smiled slightly; this might be fun. He could deal with this. 

The sound of gunshots suddenly filled the air and Pan immediately withdrew his previous statement. He frowned in annoyance. Seriously, what the hell was with humans and these things?! For such an acclaimed lethal weapon, they were so—pathetic. 

Rolling his eyes, Pan waved his hand, casting a spell towards the group of Klaue’s cronies that were pointing the long guns at him. He watched with slight amusement as they all checked their weapons with confusion; probably wondering why they weren’t shooting like they were supposed to. Well, that’s what magic will do to ya.

Grinning, Pan swiped them all of their feet with a wave of his hand, completely knocking them out. Good. One less group to worry about.

He looked around, seeing the Avengers all scattered throughout the factory. He saw Widow displaying an impressive array of martial art technique, kicking the ass of everyone that even tried to make contact with her. Above her, was Hawkeye shooting arrows around the proximity of the soldiers that seemed to let out either some electrical shockwave, or just a plain explosion. That confused Pan. Why didn’t the archer just use the arrows to directly kill them instead? 

Now that he thought about it, all the Avengers were landing non-fatal blows to the offenders, even the so called assassins. He couldn’t understand why; killing them would be so much easier— 

He hissed in pain as something hit him in the side of the forehead. “Ow,” Pan groaned, trying to locate the place of the stinging. What the hell was that?

His fingers finally came in contact with something of a cold metallic feeling. The thing was embedded into his temple. Cursing in annoyance, Pan ripped the small piece of metal out of his head, ignoring the stinging pain of his actions and inspected the thing in his fingers.

Ah: a bullet. 

He then looked to his left to see the frightened stature of one of Klaue’s men, holding out a gun which was now shaking tremendously in his hands. Aha; so _he’s_ the one who shot him. 

The man bore a morbid expression as if he had just seen a ghost; which, to be fair to him was valid considering he’d just seen a teen pull a bullet out of his head. Apparently, a bullet to the head was supposed to be fatal. Pan refrained from rolling his eyes. True, this man hadn’t a clue he was immortal, but still; guns. They were so stupid.

Giving the man a friendly wave, Pan flicked the bullet back towards him; it lodged itself right into the middle of the man’s head. He keeled right over, slumping down on the ground in an immobile figure. Pan snorted. How pathetic. This game was too easy.

A cry of surprise caught his attention, and he looked up just in time to see the speedster flying across the room, with what appeared to be Thor’s hammer in his hand. He’d obviously tried to grab it. The notion made Pan snicker. What a moron. 

He walked over to where the boy was now struggling to stand up, having just crashed into a bunch of discarded motility. Discombobulated, the silver haired teen tried to right himself, only to be knocked down by Captain America himself, who pushed him back with his shield. “Stay down, kid,” he said to him as the speedster glared at him. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle him,” Pan said simply as he walked over to the boy. Steve eyes him with confusion. “What—“ he stared, only to widen his eyes in horror as the speeding teen was suddenly lifted up by some invisible force. The kid was visibly struggling, and his hands were at his throat; he seemed to be chocking.

Steve looked over to Pan, who had one hand extended, his fingers curled in a cupping motion, smiling with satisfaction. He put two and two together. 

“Pan, stop!” He ordered and the boy looked at him with disdain. “You’re killing him!” Pan’s eyebrows furrowed, a frown spread across his face as he flickered his eyes towards him victim and then back at the man again. “That’s the idea, yes,” he replied, confused at how the man could be so daft. No shit he was killing him; the whole point was so they wouldn’t have to deal with the white haired kid’s annoying ass anymore.

Wasn’t that obvious? He thought it was obvious.

Steve looked at him incredulously. “Pan! We don’t kill people!” He exclaimed, a statement to which the teen rolled his eyes at. “I know, which is the bloody problem!” Pan snapped, as he tightened his ‘grip’. “Your problems won’t arise again if you get rid of them the first chance you get,” he explained as if it were common knowledge; which, to Pan, it was. These people were relentless; they were just gonna keep coming back and back again. Might as well discard of them now so there’s no need to deal with them in the future.

The speedster choked some more and Steve gave Pan somewhat of a pleading yet stern look. “Pan!” He called out, but Pan ignored him. His eyes were trained on the enhanced teen he was planning to kill, when suddenly a blast of red magic shoved him back into the wall; but it wasn’t magic. Pan knew magic; this wasn’t it. 

But it was pretty darn close.

He looked up to see the psychic girl glowering at him, her hands glowing red. He rose his eyebrows. So that’s where the blast had come from. He quirked an eyebrow. Not very subtle if you ask him. 

The girl raced over to the white haired boy, a look of concern on her face as she placed her hands on his shoulder and at the side of his head in what seemed like a caring gesture. Pan observed this with mild interest. Clearly these two loved each other very much. But it wasn’t true love; nor was it romantic love—they must be siblings.

Standing himself up, Pan narrowed his eyes at the girl. As much as her powers intrigued him, they were quickly starting to get on his nerves. He raised his hand to cast another spell when Steve suddenly grabbed his wrist in a surprisingly restraining grip. “No. Killing!” He said, his eyes bearing a serious expression and Pan scowled at him, ripping his arm out of his hold. How did these people expect to win if they didn’t eliminate the main offence?

“ _You_   guys don’t kill people: I’m not one of you—“ he retorted, but the silver haired teen seemed to have recovered because he suddenly went barreling into both him and Rogers; or at least tried to. Pan noticed him at the last second and flew out of the way. A large red glowing box suddenly came his way, four more following its trail. Pan cursed as he dodged each of them and was forced to retreat to higher ground; he hated retreating. It was a sign of inferiority.

But sometimes, it was necessary in order for the game to go your way. 

He landed on the top level, Iron man and Ultron duking it out a ways away from him. He looked around. Most of the soldiers were on the ground, and he was pretty well masked in his current spot from the common eye, so as far as he was concerned, the guns weren’t a problem. However, something did catch his eye; Natasha Romanov had stopped fighting; in fact she stopped moving completely. She seemed to be in some sort of dazed trance. Arching an eyebrow, Pan leaned over the railing to tell Steve, only to see him sitting on the ground in a similar haze. Pan frowned. What was up with them— 

Then he realized: the girl. 

He realized this just as he felt her presence once again infiltrate his brain; but this time, his consciousness went along with it.

. 

.

Meanwhile Clint was currently trying to bring Natasha out of her trance. What had that weird witchy kid done to her? 

Whatever it was it was bad; although Nat had an expressionless look on her face, her eyes were like pools of terror—whatever she was seeing, it was not good. It wasn’t good at all.

“Hulk’s gone crazy. Could use some backup, ASAP. Natasha, I could really use a lullaby!” Tony yelled though the comms, but the words went through one ear and out the other for he Russian spy. She was still trapped in her trance. 

Clint frowned, replying to Tony. “Well, that's not gonna happen. Not for a while. The whole team is down, you got no back up here.” He snapped his fingers in Nat’s face, trying to elicit a response, any response at all:

And as if thing couldn’t get any more out of proportion, the entire fucking building started to shake.

Clint struggled to stay on his feet, while everyone around him tumbled about as the tremors kept getting more and more vehement. He barely managed to steady himself and Nat against the wall. Anymore of this and the whole building could collapse; and he had no idea if everyone was out yet.

What the hell was causing this?!?

Then he suddenly peered over the ledge to see Pan with his head faced downwards, clutching it tightly with a pained expression on his face, and he got his answer.

Man; this kid really was powerful.

But even Thor didn’t react like that when the witch messed with him—which begged the question: what the hell did she make Pan see? 

“Barton, I can hear that from the city and I’m battling a raging Hulk right now, what the hell’s going on over there?” Tony asked, his voice sounding strained. Clearly he was more than preoccupied at the moment. 

Unfortunately, so was Clint. “The witch got to the kid too, he’s out of control. Gonna tear this whole building apart,” Clint yelled into the comm, the rumbles of he building now growing more intense and loud. He watched warily as Pan sank to his knees, his teeth gnashed together in what seemed like dread. The ceIling started to crack. Shit. That’s not good.  

He briefly wondered again what could’ve been so bad to have Pan act like this, but he quickly refocused his mind. Right now he had more important things to think about: like how to stop the kid before he killed everyone in the building. 

Thankfully, the tremors seemed to knock Steve and Thor out of their respective stupors, and they looked around with shock as numerous soldiers piled out of the building. “Ultron?!” Thor questioned, barely keeping his footing, but Clint shook his head. “It’s the kid!” He exclaimed, pointing down to the boy. Steve’s eyes widened and he went to jump over the railing, but Clint stopped him. “Don’t!” He yelled, gaining the captain’s attention. He inclined his head to where Pan was kneeling. Everything around the boy was starting to disintegrate.

Steve rose his eyebrows and drew back. “PAN!!!” He yelled down to the boy. Clint gave him a deadpan look. Really? 

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s gonna work, buddy,” he yelled to him sarcastically and Steve rolled his eyes. “What else are we supposed to do?!” He yelled back. Thor looked down at his hammer and then back at Steve. Steve saw his and shook his head. “It’s the only way!!” Thor exclaimed but Steve shook his head more. “No, it will kill him!” He yelled back.

A large chunk of the ceiling crashing to the ground out a stake in their argument. Clint looked on worriedly as more large chunks started to fall down, and he ducked and rolled out of the way from getting hit, Nat in his arms. “Whatever the decision is just hurry up and make it!!” He screamed, annoyed. This was seriously not the time for argument. 

Thor looked Steve dead in the eye. “Trust me!!!” He yelled, “he can take it!!! I promise!!” 

Steve looked uncertain. As precious seconds went by, more pieces of ceiling fell to the ground. Just as Clint was debating shooting the little bugger himself, Steve looked at Thor and nodded. A millisecond later, Thor’s hammer was racing towards Pan. The minute the hammer made contact with his head, the entire place was engulfed in green light. Clint covered his eyes but the light flashed away as fast as it came. It revealed the knocked outform of Pan slumped on the ground. The building ceased shaking. Clint let out a sigh of relief. Thank god. 

But it wasn’t over yet. The building was still going to collapse. “Let’s get outta here, hurry!” Steve yelled. Clint didn’t need to be told twice. He picked up Nat and ran out the building, Steve and Thor in tow, with Pan in the god’s arms. 

The three panted as they gathered into the ship. “Well,” Clint said, setting Nat down. She was a little more responsive now, but not entirely yet. “At least the building didn’t—“ he was cut off by a huge explosion, which knocking five of them to the floor. Clint grunted as he collided with the ground, sitting himself up and looking at the building idly—or at least what was left of it. 

He sighed. “Nevermind.”

~~~

_Pan had felt his presence before even turning around._

_There stood Rumple—the one he grew up with, the very man whom he used to be so close to, used to love so dearly—with Pandora’s box in his hand.  _

_Ready to trap Pan himself in there for the rest of eternity._

_Disgust filled up inside of him at the sight of the man, along with other, more reluctant emotions that he wasn’t going to acknowledge. No. He was not going to let Rumple manipulate his feelings, interfere with his plans like he allowed him to in the past; he wouldn’t do it. He refused to._

_Both of them had a goal they wished to achieve: and one of them was going to end up in that box.  _

_It was not about to be Pan._

_Clouding his emotions with perfected practice, Pan smiled a vile smile at Rumple. “Well, look at that. Look who’s deciding to play hero,” he said mockingly, a merciless grin forming on his face as he laughed cruelly. “Oh, Rumple,” he shook his head pitifully, “I see you haven’t changed a bit; always pretending to be something you’re not—something you will never be.”  _

_Rumple’s hard glare was unwavered, but Pan could read him like a book. He knew he had succeeding in antagonizing the man._

_“Where’s Henry?” Rumple snarled, looking at him harshly. Pan looked at him with his infamous arched eyebrow. “You mean your Grandson?” he looked behind him, in the direction where Henry was waiting for him below, and looked back with a shrug. “Well, I’d say he’s right where he’s supposed to be; where I want him,” his smirking expression turned serious, “where you won’t be able to get to him,” he spoke, tone laced with a dangerous feel to it._

_This didn’t deter the man in front of him at all. In fact, Rumple only looked more determined. “We’ll see about that,” he sneered, and Pan laughed—loudly. He let out a bellowing laugh in fact, as the thought of Rumple actually having a chance against him was—well, laughable. “You honestly still believe that you can beat me?” he asked, still laughing, “that you can actually win??!”_

_“Oh, I know I can,” Rumple said sagely, and Pan laughed again. “Do you now?” he asked in the most patronizing tone he could muster, feeling satisfied at Rumple’s irked expression. “Tell me Rumple, how do you reckon that is so?” Did Rumple honestly believe he was stronger than him? The idea was ridiculous—his magic has been stronger than his since they were children; always has and always will be, as the island just fuelled Pan’s power even more._

_Rumple’s expression didn’t change save for the eyebrow he raised almost—confidently? “Because I know you, Pan,” he said adamantly, the corner of his lips curling up slightly, “I know you better than anyone else.”_

_Pan tensed up. He could feel the rage and repressed emotions starting to build up inside of him and he quickly fought it down, although he was now glaring at Rumple with death-inflicting eyes. “No,” he growled, “You don’t.” How dare Rumple say that? After all these years, he thinks he can just come back to him and up and claim that he still knows him?!_

_Yeah; not a chance.  _

_Rumple’s expression turned convicting. “Deny it all you want, Pan, but I do know you; all those years together just don’t fade away,” he said. “I know that this isn’t you,” Pan scoffed at that, but Rumple continued, “I know the person I used to know as a boy is still in there, no matter how subdued—“_

_“—Then you, dear Dark One, are more idiotic than I thought,” Pan hissed out, cutting him off. He was tired of hearing all this bullshit. But his harsh demeanour didn’t dishearten the man. Actually, to Pan’s absolute disgust, Rumple looked at him with soft, somber eyes. “I know you wouldn’t do this without an ulterior motive,” he said quietly, “This is not just about immortality, is it?”_

_Pan had turned away from him at this point, but was honestly debating telling him the truth. He knew Rumple was losing hope in him; he knew that he was beginning to think of him as nothing but a selfish monster, if not already, and honestly, it hurt—a lot. But Pan convinced himself it was better this way. It’s easier to hate a person who wasn’t completely resolute in having faith in you._

_Still, he guessed it wouldn’t be harmful to tell Rumple the truth; he wouldn’t be around for much longer anyways._

_It was also because he secretly wished for the man to still have faith in him, but he’d never allow himself to believe it._

_“The island’s dying,” Pan said, still not looking directly at Rumple, but his head was facing the side. “If I get Henry’s heart I will have the power to fix it; to keep it going.”_

_To his slight disbelief, Rumple gave him a pitying look. “You don’t need this place, Malcolm!” He insisted, looking at him with hopeful eyes. “This place is based off of evil and darkness, and its spread within you. You can find refuge elsewhere, start over with the boys, make a new life!” He paused for a moment, before adding quietly, “start over with me.”  _

_The feeling of remorse nearly reached Pan’s heart this time, but he force the barrier around it to maintain impenetrable, although with a lot more difficulty than before. He found himself actually considering the thought—considering Rumple’s words—and the fact mortified him. He was doing it again! He was letting Rumple mess with his brain. He couldn’t just throw away everything he worked for, he wouldn’t—not now that he was so close._

_So, heeding this, Pan closed off his feelings once more, forcibly suppressing every emotion except one:  _

_His rage._

_“Don’t call me that,” he snarled angrily. “And you of all people cannot tell me what I can, and cannot do!!!”_

_Rumple looked at him pleadingly now. “You don’t need this heart, Peter—” he started, nearly throwing Pan off for calling him by his first name this time, but didn’t. “You’re right, I don’t,” he admitted carelessly, “I don’t have to do any of this.” Then he gave the man a devious grin. “But I will,” his grin widened, “because I want to.”  _

_Rumple’s expression hardened a bit, but not in anger; in determination. “You’re lying to yourself, Peter,” he said calmly. “You know that you ca—“_

_But Pan cut him off. The minute he heard Rumple’s words, the rage ignited inside of him._

_“I’m the liar??” he asked with audacity, pointing to himself, scoffing slightly. “Me?? ME???” He found himself gnashing his teeth together in a furious snarl. “YOU’RE the liar!!!” He exclaimed back. He was shaking now, the anger feeling like fire in his veins; and he had never fought so desperately to keep his emotions in before.  _

_Rumple sighed. “Pan—“ he started but Pan shook his head vigorously. He wasn’t done—no, he wasn’t even close to being done._

He pointed his finger accusingly at Rumple. “YOU  promised me —“ he paused, feeling himself choke up—something he hadn’t done in more than 300 years. He couldn’t even glare at Rumple as a sorrowful expression fell upon his face; a genuine one. “—you’d come back; and you NEVER came.” Rumple was looking guilty now, and Pan’s repressed emotions that he fought so hard to keep hidden were now overwhelming him. He couldn’t stop the tears from running down his cheeks, but he didn’t care; it’d been too damn long, he couldn’t of kept them bottled up forever.

_And he was sick and tired of Rumple’s lies._

_Despite his tears, he managed to pin a look of fury at Rumple, glaring at him with as much contempt as he could muster. “NOTHING EVER HAPPENED!!!” He screamed, allowing all his pent up anger and rage and sorrow and hurt and a bunch of other emotions to be poured out into his voice. He watched as Rumple winced, not only from his tone, but from the island shaking slightly in his fury as well. His control over the island was slipping with every emotion he let out. So, although still heavy hearted, he willed himself to calm down; but the glare never faltered._

_“You’re the liar—not me; you,” he snapped bitterly. There was no emotion flowing inside of him anymore; not even anger. Just nothingness. “You’re the one who forgot about me—“_

_“I NEVER forgot about you!!” Rumple exclaimed in protest but Pan just laughed; a mirthless, humourless laugh. “Really? Is that so?” he asked acerbically. “Let’s see then;” He started to count on his fingers, “got married, had a kid, got a grandson, new lover, new life, new family,” he huffed out another humourless laugh. “Seems to me like you have all the supplements you need.”_

_Rumple looked like he wanted to say something, but Pan wouldn’t let him. He was done hearing anymore excuses the man had to bring. “I’m getting that heart,” he said savagely, “and when I do, there will be NOTHING you, or anyone else can do to stop me; especially from hurting your loved ones,” he said with a mocking tone at the end—and even still, he felt nothing._

_Absolutely nothing._

_Rumple on the other hand, looked full of remorse. It was driving him insane. He didn’t want his pity; he didn’t need hm. He was fine for the past 400 years, he can keep on going steady now too._

_“Please don’t make me do this,” he whispered sadly. Pan just glared at him, feeling seconds away from throttling him.  _

_And yet, he still felt nothing; no anger whatsoever._

_Seeing that Pan wasn’t going to let up, Rumple sighed and waved his hand above the box to open it. As Pan was expecting, it did nothing. He almost felt a smile crawl onto his lips. Almost._

_Rumple looked up at him with shock. “I don’t understand,” he breathed out confusedly, and Pan sneered at him. What a fool.  _

_“That’s because you don’t have it,” he snapped, revealing the real box from behind his back. He watched with mild satisfaction as Rumple looked at the box in his hand with horror; but even then, the emotion wasn’t real. He knew it wasn’t.  _

_Because in no way did it feel genuine at all._

_Still, he kept up his malevolent nature. “You still don’t get it, do you Rumple,” he taunted in a (feigned) snivelling tone. “In Neverland, all you have to do is believe you have something in order to get it; and that’s the problem with you. You don’t believe—you never have,” Pan then eyed the box in his hand before glaring darkly at the man, “And you never will.” He then waved his hand, opening the box._

_Rumple’s eyes widened and he reached an arm out as if to stop him. “NO—“ he began to exclaim but it was too late; the man had only managed a singular step before being sucked away into a hopeless abyss._

_The box closed itself as Pan held it daintily in the palm of his hand. Finally, he let out the long-suppressed breath he had been unknowingly holding in, but it came out choppy. Taking a minute to compose himself, he let out another heavy, choppy breath, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again. The dried tears on his cheeks were replaced with fresh new ones as his breathing eventually became less and less explicit._

_It wasn’t supposed to be this difficult._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. Pretty depressing. Also, by now you can probably tell that I am 100% NOT creative with chapter titles. Oh well. ¯\\_(”-)_/¯ 
> 
> I shall warn you, the next chapter is going to be flooded with flashbacks and will most likely be hella long—and yes, some of those flashbacks will be of what Pan saw, although most likely brief versions of what I wrote to save time. But yeah; that’s he gist of the next chapter, just a fair warning. Thank you for reading!


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